Who I Used To Be
by EverythingHHH
Summary: Paul has lost everything that mattered in his life so now he feels useless and hopeless. He turns to certain things to numb his pain because he just doesn't quite know how to deal with it alone. Will someone special come into his life and help him before it's too late? (Triple H/OC) (Triple H/Stephanie McMahon)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hello, everyone. I decided to write a new story that is not related to my last two. I just want to write something different for right now and I'm pretty excited for this one. I know this first chapter is short but it's just to get it started. I promise the chapters will be long. I hope you enjoy.

Yes, eventually Paul and Stephanie will pair up.

 **Disclaimer:** I only own the little boy and Shania.

" _Daddy, look!"_

 _Paul looked up from his phone and at the direction where the little voice came from. He smiled when his son performed a trick in the middle of the massive yard of their property. He has seen the same trick a million times but his little guy always managed to amuse him every single time._

" _You still got it, Hunter." Paul shouted from across the yard before he felt a gentle touch to his shoulder. He looked up at his wife smiling at him. "Hey you." He said as he watched her sit down next to him in the green grass._

" _Hey. Did he show you his performance again?" She asked with a small quiet laugh._

 _He chuckled and turned his attention to his son once more. "Yeah, he did." Now Hunter was pretending he was an airplane or bee by spreading his arms out and running around in the grass making annoying buzzing noises. "He sure does have an imagination." He added with a soft smile._

" _He gets it from his daddy." She replied as she hugged his big arm._

 _He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, really? What makes you think that, Shania?" He already knew the answer somewhat but he wanted his ego stroked at the moment._

 _She looked him in his hazel eyes. "Because you own a business, Paul." She eyed his phone in his lap. "Is that why you were on the phone?" She asked._

 _He sighed. "Yeah. The new guy I hired was having troubles looking for some inventory."_

" _Mommy! Daddy! I'm hungry!" The little blonde boy jumped excitingly into his fathers' arms._

" _Is it time for lunch?" Paul asked Hunter who had dirt on his elbows and knees._

" _Yes!" He made both his parents laugh._

 _Paul gazed over at his wife and caught her bright blue eyes. They smiled at each other and he knew he wouldn't have his life any other way._

* * *

Paul snapped out of his thoughts when suddenly a loud commercial played on his television set in front of him. He brought his focus back on the TV and took a swig of his beer. This was actually his second beer in the past thirty minutes. It numbed his feelings.

Whenever the TV would show a happy and healthy family, he would drift off to that happy place that he held in his heart.

He brought the bottle to his trembling lips once again but when he tilted his head back, nothing came out of the cold glass bottle. He brought it away from his mouth and grunted in annoyance before he tossed it in the wastebasket near the kitchen. It clanked loudly against the other bottles that were littered at the bottom of the plastic bin. He stood up from his lazy boy chair and trudged towards the dark kitchen. He navigated through the small space with the help of the small sliver on moonlight peeking between the curtains. He opened the fridge and squinted his eyes at the sudden bright light as he reached for another alcoholic beverage. Once he retrieved what he needed, he kicked the fridge closed all the while opening the bottle. He took a few drinks as he made his way to his bedroom for some rest.

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't fade off into another world no matter how hard he tried. He just stared up at the ceiling and watched the shadows of the tree leaves dance across it from the breeze out in the night. He sighed and rubbed the skin between his tired eyes. The clock beside him showed a quarter till eleven before ne attempted to get some much needed sleep. He hadn't been in here for long so he figured it would only be a little past midnight.

He reached over and grabbed his phone off the nightstand. He dialed a number and help the device to his ear. He waited a few seconds before a greeting sounded on the other end.

"Hey, man. Are you up?" He asked as he shut his eyes to rest them a little.

"Yeah, of course. What's up?" The male voice said.

"Can I swing by and hang out for a little bit? I can't sleep for shit." He really hoped his friend would let him come over because he couldn't take being alone in this place for much longer.

"Sure."

"Cool, I'll be there soon." He got off of the bed and slipped on his shoes.

"Alright, man."

Paul hung up the phone and placed it in the pocket of his jeans that he just put on. He left his room, completely forgetting about the almost full beer bottle on the nightstand and went straight for his keys. He knew he shouldn't be driving because he was buzzed, damn near drunk but he didn't care. If he could focus a little in front of him then he would be okay. He left his house and walked towards his car that was parked in the long driveway.

It was quiet out since it was late and the cool air left goosebumps on his skin. He unlocked his car and climbed into it, immediately starting it up. His stereo blasted loud heavy metal music as he sped out of the vicinity of his home.

* * *

His car squeaked as it came to a halt in front of his desired location. He killed the engine and pulled the key from the ignition. He managed to drive well in such a state. He swerved every now and again, at least he thinks he did. He was insanely lucky that there was no cop in sight, otherwise he'd be behind bars instead of where he actually was at this very minute.

"Man, shut the fuck up. You bitch too much." A man said from inside the house. Him and another guy were currently arguing before there was a loud knock on the front door. "That should be Paul but it might not be so put that shit away." He demanded as he pointed at the little bag of white powder. He watched him put it away before he opened the door, revealing Paul.

"Hey, man. It's nice seein' ya." He said with a smile as Paul walked through the door.

"Yeah, it's been a while, Ray." Paul chuckled. He gazed over at the other man whom he didn't know. He looked, well….fucked up. His hair was disheveled, eyes wide as saucers, fidgeting with his fingers and was extremely skinny. He looked terrified and he had no idea why he would be.

"Oh, yeah, that's Dave. He's a friend of mine. Shows how long we haven't hung out." Ray laughed as they walked over to the couch and sat down.

"I see that." He said before he stuck his hand out for the unknown man to shake. "Names Paul." He smirked when the other man shook his large hand. He seemed so fragile during the gesture.

"Names Dave." His gruff voice spoke.

"Wanna show Paulie what we got?" Ray asked with a huge smile.

Paul felt confused. What Dave pulled out of his pocket made his eyes go wide. This was the last thing he had expected to see him take out. He watched as they poured the rocks of cocaine onto the coffee table and crushed it up into powder with a card. They separated the amount into three lines and rolled up a dollar bill. His heart stuck in his throat when Ray held out the rolled up dollar bill to him with a smirk.

"Wanna take a hit? It'll rid of your pain, man."

Paul just stared down at the item in his hand. He has _never_ been offered illegal drugs so he didn't know what to say. No was an obvious answer but something was stopping him from saying no.

" _It'll rid of your pain, man."_

That statement was ringing in his head as he actually contemplated this. Yeah, he was a drunk but he would never consume these drugs.

He just shook his head and sat back against the old and raggedy couch. "No, thanks. Do you have beer or hard liquor?" He asked in hopes of him having something. Although, it was impossible for him _not_ to have something in his fridge and cupboards. He watched as his friends' face faltered a bit at his rejection.

"Yeah, I have some Coors. Make yourself at home." He gestured over to the lit kitchen.

Paul sat up and went over to the kitchen. He's been in here many of times but he couldn't get over how messy it was all the time. It looked almost as if no one lived in this house. He opened the fridge and his eyes lit up at the sight of the colored glass bottles in the back. He moved the Chinese take-out over and grasped his desired beverage.

"Oh, shit." One of them gasped after they snorted an entire line in one hit. They pinched their nose and fell back with their eyes rolled into the back of their head. They were seeing stars and didn't even notice Paul walking back into the smelly room.

Paul caught sight of the both of them, high as a damn kite. They looked like they were sleeping when really, they were in another dimension. The three white lines were gone off the table and now adorned the skin underneath their noses.

 _This was a mistake._ He thought to himself. He took a swig of his chill beer before he grabbed his leather jacket that he took off just ten minutes ago. Without a seconds thought, he walked out the door, slamming the door behind him. He set down the glass bottle on the doorstep so he can put his jacket back on. Once it was, he grabbed the bottle and made his way to his car.

Once he was inside, he placed the bottle into the cup holder and fired up the engine. He didn't know where he wanted to go. He didn't want to go back to his house where he was alone in the dark. It hurt his soul to be stuck in that house all day and all night. Well, except for the temporary work, that was all he had.

Maybe a nice night drive is what he needs.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all for reading and again, I'm sorry this was so short! I promise the next chapter will be much longer. What did you think of it? Please review/favorite/follow! It means so much to me.

 **A/N:** I had to go back and edit this because I wanted him to be in a house instead of an apartment. Sounds stupid to delete the story and upload it again because of that but it's for the story's purpose. It's actually important to the story.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hey guys, first, I just want to say thank you to all those who reviewed chapter 1. Like I've said before, it really means a whole lot when you do. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I kept to my promise of making this one longer.

 **Disclaimer:** I only own Hunter and Shania and everybody you else you don't recognize being under the ownership of Vince McMahon.

* * *

 _He woke to the sound of a loud explosion and a sudden blast of heat engulfed his body. He tried to move his body but he couldn't; if felt as if someone or something was holding him down. Once he could take in his surroundings, he realized that nothing was holding him still. He just simply couldn't move his broken body. The wet concrete underneath him was a relief to the hot air that surrounded him as he tried to move his legs. He groaned when a sharp pain shot through his body._

 _When he went to look down at his legs, he caught sight of his car that was turned over onto its hood. It was in flames and his eyes went wide._

 _His family. They weren't with him._

 _Suddenly, he felt hands grab at his arms. He looked up at the concerned faces as he tried to catch his breath from the anxiety that kicked in from seeing his car in bright red flames._

He felt his body shake continuously as he tried to lift his head up. All he could see was black because well, he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. He felt so…drained.

"Sir?"

There was a voice in the distance. It was female.

 _They were grasping his arms as if their lives depended on it. They looked panicked as they dragged his battered body away from the burning fire that seemed to grow bigger with each passing second._

"Sir? We need you to wake up."

There was that voice again and it seemed a little louder this time. He was fading in and out of consciousness.

 _His car was fading in the distance as he was being dragged away to God knows where. It was just a great orange ball now. The pouring rain was soaking into his clothes and washed the blood off his arms that seeped out of open wounds on his arms and face._

" _Open the back!" The sudden shout of one of these people shook him. His mind was racing because he didn't know who these people were and what they were doing. He also didn't know if his family knew about this accident yet._

 _Were they awake?_

A light thud sounded on the table that his head was currently resting on. His eyes were cracked open and he could see movement in front of him. It was all such a blur though. He could see someone standing close to him, coaxing him to wake up.

"We have a glass of water for you. Please wake up so we know that you are okay." The worried voice rang in his ears. He could hear a faint siren in the distance.

 _Medics. They were medics. He noticed that when a few of them ran in front of him and gently picked up his legs while the others lifted his arms up. They set him down gently on a backboard and lifted him in the air like he was flying in the air as an angel after this deadly accident._

 _He was being put into the back of an ambulance with the focused medics surrounding him. One of them was immediately hooking him up to machines and watched him closely. Once the medic had him hooked up to the heart monitor, the sound of rapid beeps consumed the small space of the back of the ambulance._

" _Sir, we need you to relax, please." The man said in a serious voice which concerned Paul to the fullest._

" _Wha…what happened? Tell me…" He was cut off by his abrupt voice._

" _This is all your fault."_

His eyes opened wide and he gasped; however, his vision was nothing but a blur. Everyone that was surrounding him were giving him a nagging migraine with their voices who, ironically, sound happy and cheerful. His sight became a little more clearer and he spotted a couple of women in front of him, smiling. One was holding a phone and the other was a holding a white rag. It looked like it was soaked in water.

"His eyes are so bloodshot." The brunette said to the blonde in an almost shocked voice with wide eyes.

Sudden movement from across the diner caught his attention. Wait, he fell asleep in the diner? It was a couple of men dressed in green scrubs heading his way and they looked anxious.

* * *

Déjà vu. That's all he could say as he lied in the cot in a hospital room. His head was clear now but that didn't eliminate the fact that his brain was pounding in his head. This was the most awful hangover he has ever experienced. He didn't know why he had things sticking out of his arms. He was just drunk, more like shitfaced. Maybe they thought that he had more in his system than just alcohol.

Damn, if he would have consumed the cocaine that he was offered last night then he would without a doubt be behind bars when he was released from here. That's all he could remember from last night. He doesn't remember actually driving to a diner and ordering a coffee. He didn't remember sitting alone in the corner booth before the alcohol knocked him out.

There was a soft knock on the door and it opened slowly. A doctor walked in with a smile on his face as he held a clipboard in his hands. Those were most possibly his test results.

"Good morning, Mr. Levesque. How do you feel?" He asked politely as he placed the clipboard on the desk next to all his belongings.

"Eh, my head is hurting me really bad and I feel queasy." He answered while he raked his hand through his blonde strands. His stomach was turning a little bit. It progressed when the doctor walked in unexpectedly.

"Mhm, yes, that's normal. We'll give you an aspirin." He said professionally as he brought out the rolling chair from underneath the desk and sat in it next to Pauls' bedside. He looked up at him through his thick glasses. "Your alcohol levels were way above the legal limit, Mr. Levesque…"

"Paul, call me Paul." He said. He hated to be called "Mr. Levesque" sometimes. It just reminded him of when he had a purpose in life and when he was something.

"Okay, Paul, your alcohol levels were extremely high. If you would've drank one more ounce, you would've suffered from alcohol poisoning." Doctor Johnson explained to him as he looked his patient in his eyes. When he showed no reaction to the last part he said, he was a little surprised. Usually when his patients heard such a thing, they would gasp at least but he did nothing. "Not to mention that you were driving and it is a miracle from God that nothing happened to you on the way to that diner. I heard from the waitresses that it took about half an hour to wake you up." He took a deep breath before continuing. "They honestly thought you had perished, Paul. Now, I looked at your records and I saw that you had been in a car accident before…"

Paul cleared his throat awkwardly and that caused Dr. Johnson to stop speaking. "I know." He whispered before he looked down at his hands. "Please don't speak of that."

He had obviously mentioned an event that he didn't want to talk about. He was just going to use it as an example of what could happen if he was to make this very same mistake again. "I'm sorry, Paul. I just want you to take care of yourself."

Paul nodded his head. "I understand." He spoke quietly.

Dr. Johnson forced a small smile before he stood up. "I'm going to get you an aspirin for your headache. You'll be staying here overnight so your senses can clear up before you get released from here." He informed him as he placed the chair back where it was.

Paul sighed inwardly. He really didn't want to be stuck in this small space all day and all night. He had no choice in the matter though so he might as well go with it. "Okay, thank you, doc." He faked a smile the best he could.

Once the doctor had left the room to retrieve his medicine for him, he rested his head back against his inclined bed. He looked out the window at the sunny blue skies. The accident. That dream he had last night made him feel like he was living real life. It was so real. It was like he was switching between two different worlds in that short amount of time. He was damn near fighting his life in one and felt like he actually lost his life in the other. The latter was when he wouldn't wake up for the waitresses. He had to have looked….dead. Hell, he felt dead.

 _At the diner the night before…_

" _Upsy daisy."_

 _The medics helped him out of the booth when they threw his big arms over their shoulders. He was almost dragging his feet across the tiled floor but managed to sort of walk on his own. However, without the medics help, he would fall right over._

" _You can just smell the alcohol on him, good grief." One of them said as they walked him out of the quiet diner. Well, it was quiet because it was closed._

 _Paul slowly looked over at the man talking. When he turned to him he muttered, "Wha…wha…what?"_

 _He just ignored him as they made their way to the ambulance._

 _The bright flashing lights hurt Pauls' eyes and so he groaned at the nagging pain. His body felt so heavy. He had to have looked like a corpse to the random people on the street watching this unfold. There was something about people being so curious as to what is happening when paramedics are just doing their job. He caught sight of some of the people and was actually oblivious to what their reaction was like. A mother was holding her child to her as she stared at him with a shocked look on her face. Did he really look that bad?_

" _Okay, we need you to lie down onto the stretcher now." They coaxed him._

 _A slight feeling of comfort overcame him as his body rested on the stretcher. He heard the double doors slam shut and they were off. As they drove, he could pick out bits and pieces of their conversation but didn't fully understand everything. He was just that much in a drunken state._

"Alright, here's your pills, Paul."

He didn't even hear the doctor open the door so he scared him slightly. He took the orange bottle from him and smiled appreciatively. "Thank you." He unscrewed the top and shook one of the white tablets into his large hand. He reached over for the cup of water and downed it in one try.

 _Here's to hoping this works quickly._ He thought to himself.

"Alright, get some rest and if you need anything or if you feel like you're gonna get sick, please alert a nurse with the push of that red button right beside you."

Paul just gave him a halfhearted smile before he exited the room. He sighed and moved around a little to get somewhat comfortable. He closed his eyes and immediately regretted that he didn't tell the doctor to close the blinds a little bit more because the morning sun was shining brightly. But he already left so he shut his eyes anyway and attempted to drift off.

* * *

He was finally out of the hospital. He was only there for two days but to him, it felt like a lifetime. As the yellow taxi pulled up to his house, he was actually relieved to be home. He usually didn't like being here but he kind of just wanted real food to eat and cable television to watch.

"Five ninety-seven, sir."

Paul looked over at the aged taxi driver before he pulled out his wallet. He just handed him six dollars. "You can keep the three cents." He said before he climbed out of the cab. He closed the door and the taxi cab slowly drove off into the distance. He slowly made his way to the white front door of his house and dug his keys out of his pocket. While he was unlocking it, he eyed the Christmas wreath hanging on the door, right below the small window. When the door clicked open, he absent-mindedly ran his hand over the fake pointy pine. A small smile came across his face at the memory of his son with this very wreath.

 _Flashback…_

" _Mommy, look what I made at school today!"_

 _Shania Levesque was in the middle of cooking dinner when she heard her son shout from across the house. She turned around to see him running in her direction with the biggest smile on his face. She felt her heart melt at his excitement._

 _Paul looked up from his phone when he heard Hunter shout at his mom. He smiled and slipped the phone into his back pocket. He was sat on one of the cushioned kitchen stools at the island in the middle of their huge kitchen so he watched to see what he had._

" _What is it, baby?" Shania asked as he ran up to her, out of breath. She put the kitchen utensil down in the skillet so she could take the item from her sons' tiny hands. Her smile got bigger when she saw what it was._

" _It's a wreath, mommy. I drawed the three of us on a piece of papuh and put it in da middle. Do you like it?" The thrilled boy explained as he pointed at the drawing in the middle._

 _Paul felt his heart swell at the little boys' enthusiasm. He could see a little of it from where he was sitting. It looked like a stick figure drawing of the three of them holding hands. Scribbled above them was 'Merry Christmas'; of course, the colors of the letters were red and green._

" _Hunter, I love it. It's beautiful. Go show daddy." She insisted with a bright smile that showed her white teeth._

 _Immediately, Hunter turned and gasped when he saw his daddy. "Daddy, look at dis!" He ran over to him and Paul swooped him up into his arms. When he got a good look at it, he can confirm that it looked exactly like he said it did. Except this time, he can see the scribbled hair on each of their heads._

" _Wow, this is amazing, little man." He said with enthusiasm. "I bet this took you a long time to make, huh?" He asked the blonde boy who was sat in his lap._

" _Uh huh. Mrs. Betty liked it. She said I have a great imagin…in…ation." He struggled with the big word and both his parents chuckled._

" _Well, you do. You're insanely smart and that'll get you very far in life." Paul replied as he looked Hunter in his blue eyes._

" _Yeah, maybe you'll own your own business just like your daddy." Shania added before she turned to continue cooking their dinner._

" _Yeah! That would be awesome!" He exclaimed._

 _Paul laughed before he went to tickle his sons' sides making him laugh hysterically._

A heaviness suddenly weighed upon his shoulders which seemed to cause his hand to fall away from the green wreath. He stared at the hand-drawn picture in the middle and noticed the paper was starting to crinkle up and the pencil start to fade from all the rain and wind of the chilling New England winter. It was a few months after Christmas but he felt like he should keep it up there. He couldn't bring himself to take it down from where his son placed it as he sat on Pauls' broad shoulders.

He sighed before he pushed the door open to enter huge house. He closed the door behind him and shrugged his jacket off. He was more than thankful that the hospital had his jacket, well, his clothes in general. Luckily, they just had him stay in his own clothes rather than dressing him in an ugly gown. He passed the coat rack and just threw it onto the sofa that was in the living room. He entered the kitchen and went straight to the freezer to retrieve a TV dinner. He's never really felt like cooking anymore. In fact, he probably hasn't cooked a decent meal for himself in the last few months. He just didn't have it in him to give himself that luxury.

He tossed the frozen meal into the microwave and started it. The beep of each button on the microwave seemed to echo eerily in the big space. As he was waiting for his meal, he strolled into the living room and immediately grabbed the remote and switched on the wide television. A local news station was the first thing to pop up on the screen and it was a meteorologist explaining the cold and stormy conditions that were to come later in the week.

Sudden beeps sounded from in the kitchen and so he reluctantly lifted himself from the sofa to get his dinner. When he had it ready for him to eat, he went to the fridge and pulled out an ice cold beer. He obviously wasn't following the doctors' orders on cutting back on the alcoholic beverages. The doctor told him that since he was in such a bad state when he was at the diner and at his arrival to the hospital, that he shouldn't drink any alcohol for the next few days; he informed him that he should drink plenty of fluids such as water. Sure, he had water bottles in his fridge but he just didn't want that. It doesn't numb his feelings and cloud his head like alcohol does.

With his TV dinner in one hand and his drink of guilt in the other, he returned to the living room to somewhat relax after being in the hospital for two days.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you readers and like always, please review/favorite/follow! I love to hear from you guys on what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi, everyone. I hope you all enjoy chapter 3.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own anyone you recognize that are employers of Vince McMahon.

* * *

The small space of Pauls' office was lit with sunlight that was coming through the open blinds. His office was only occupied with a few desks, a filing cabinet, and a dusty indoor plant. It was located in the very back of his motorcycle shop so he had the peace and quiet that he always cherished. He hated dealing with customers anymore. All they did was bitch and moan at him that a part didn't work.

"Paul, there is a customer who wants to speak with you."

Paul looked up from his paperwork and at his employee. He didn't even hear the door open since he was so focused on the paper he was holding. He sighed and dropped his pencil which rolled across the desk. He followed his employee out of his office and to the front desk where a guy was standing. Unfortunately, he looked impatient and very dissatisfied.

Paul managed a weak smile. "How can I help you, sir?" He asked politely as he rested his hands on the metal desk.

"I ordered these offline for a very fucking expensive price and they don't work at all."

Paul watched as the angry man threw the motorcycle part onto the metal surface which caused a 'clank' to echo around the shop. He eyed it for a second and noticed the obvious defects of the part. There was a crack in it and he scratched the back of his head nervously. "I'm sorry this happened, sir. Maybe it was the delivery man that…"

"No, it wasn't the fucking delivery man! This shit has been happening for a while now with different things! I pay huge amounts of money for the stuff that you provide and I always end up fucked."

Pauls' mind was racing from the shouts of the frustrated biker. You could tell he was a biker by the tattoos that covered him, his bald head, and his black leather jacket. His angry red eyes made Paul nervous as he tried to come up with an excuse as to why the products sucked. He didn't want to tell him the truth because the results could be catastrophic. He had to eat and keep warm for the winter.

"I…I'm sorry. We can replace the part if you'd like…" He was rudely cut off.

"No, fuck that, I'm going elsewhere." With that being said, the man walked out the door and it slammed shut behind him, making the accessories hanging on the wall shake and almost fall to the cemented floor.

Paul felt defeated and embarrassed. His shoulders slouched as he stared at the broken part. The broken part basically summed up his life.

"I can try fixing this you know." His employee said in pity of his boss. He has felt bad for him lately because of what he has gone through for several months now. His boss was a totally different person compared to when he first started working for him.

Paul broke his stare from the part to stare at the young man. "No, just throw it out. It's not fucking worth it." He said in a disappointed tone as he slowly walked off in the direction of his office to be alone. He was tired of hearing constant complaints from customers about the things they purchase from his bike shop business. The thing is, he has lost his passion for his career. The career he once loved with every fiber of his being was withering away. The consequence of that is the loss of money so he could only afford what he could afford. The great performing parts were not in his budget, unfortunately. As a result, he would lose his business, and eventually he would lose absolutely everything that he has left and he was very close to losing it all.

He plopped down into the cushioned chair that was behind his desk and scooted it in to put his head in his hands. He was tired and he just wanted to go home. He groaned and uncovered his face. He placed his hands underneath his bearded chin as he caught sight of the framed picture sitting on the corner of his desk. He smiled a little before he reached for it. He blew the dust off the glass so he could see the picture more clearly. He took his thumb and wiped off the remainder of the dust to uncover his wife and son. It was a family portrait of all three of them and he could remember the very day that they took this.

 _Flashback…_

" _Hey, little man, don't get yourself dirty before we take this picture." Paul said to his son who sat down on the grass._

" _I'm not gonna get dirty. I'm just sitting, daddy." Hunter said as he looked up at him while he winced his eyes at the sun._

 _Paul chuckled before he put his hands in his jean pockets. "Yeah, you're sitting now but here in a second or two you'll be out by the pond playing in the dirt and trying to catch the fish in the water." He was speaking the absolute truth which was hilarious. They owned a small pond in their backyard and he always loved to play in it and around it._

 _Hunter knew he was guilty so he just giggled at Paul and smiled big to show his five teeth._

 _The tall blonde just shook his head at his kid and looked back at the big white house. "Man, where is your mom at? We've been out here for probably twenty minutes waiting for her." He said, growing a little irritated. He had an idea of what she might be doing. Every woman on the planet took forever to get ready for anything. Her makeup is what took her the longest and that's what he guessed that she was spending her time on. "It takes about three seconds to take the picture and she spends about thirty minutes on her makeup." He then looked down at his little boy who was picking at the green grass in front of his crossed legs. "You know I've told your mom that she looks beautiful no matter what but she never listens. Women are crazy you know that?"_

" _Hey, I heard that."_

 _Paul and Hunter turned back to see Shania walking up to them with a knowing smile on her face._

" _Uh oh, daddy, you in twubble." The three-year-old warned as he quickly got up from the ground._

 _Paul looked at him and shot back, "Hey, me and your mom both told you not to sit on the grass before the picture and look what you were doing. You're not so innocent either, Hunter." He explained with an amused smile._

" _Boys, don't argue." Mrs. Levesque scolded despite her also amused smile. She walked closer to Paul and kissed him lightly on his lips. "You look handsome, honey." She complimented as she looked him in his honey colored eyes. He was just wearing a plain black shirt that hugged his defined muscles and some faded jeans._

 _He smiled warmly at her. "You don't look so bad yourself." She was wearing a dark red blouse that exposed her shoulders and some dark jean shorts. Also, her white flip flops went perfectly with her outfit._

 _She blushed at his compliment before she looked down at her son who was tearing up some strands of grass in his tiny hands. "It's a miracle you're not dirty, baby." Shania said._

" _Yeah, I watched him so he didn't." Paul said with a chuckle as he walked over to the tripod set up for the picture. This was a yearly thing for their little family. Ever since Hunter was born three years ago, they would take a picture each spring in their big backyard. It would be nice to see in about ten years from now how much their family has grown so the pictures would be evident of that._

 _He looked at the small camera to see if it was still on and running right and when he noticed that it was, he turned back at his wife and son. "Alright, everything is set up. Let's take this picture, yeah?" He said enthusiastically._

" _Oh, great. Hunter, daddy is going to stand right behind you and so will I. You'll stand between us okay?" She asked him to make sure he understood. He loved taking pictures with them. He was just a happy little boy._

" _Okay, I got it!" Hunter replied in a shout. He stood right in front of Shania while Paul set up the timer setting on the camera._

 _Paul set the timer and quickly ran over to get in position for the picture. Right when they got settled, the camera 'clicked', indicating that the picture had been taken._

" _Did it take it?" Hunter questioned as he eyed the camera suspiciously._

" _Yep, it did. We'll take the camera in tomorrow and get it developed." Paul replied before he ruffled his sons' thick blonde hair._

And here it was in his hands, the developed picture. Hunters' excitement was so beautiful that day; his big smile was brighter than the sunshine that was shining behind them. Pauls' shaky hands placed the picture back in the spot where it was before. While he was doing that, he was sniffing back his congestion to stop his emotions from flooding out onto his face. He sighed tiredly and looked down at the unfinished paperwork in front of him on the desk. Yeah, the piles were growing smaller each month but it was just hard to focus on it all no matter how much there was.

He just sucked it up and picked up the pencil to finish what he started hours ago. Soon he will be off and can go home, even though sometimes he didn't want to be there.

* * *

Finally, Paul was done with work for the day and closed up his shop. It was dark out as he searched for his car that he just got back from when he left it at that café the other night. They literally towed his car when they were told that he was in the hospital for being so heavily intoxicated that was putting himself and others in danger.

"Have a nice night, Paul!"

He turned to see his employee, Chris, getting in his car. "Yeah, you too." He responded from across the parking lot. He was a good kid. From what he knows, he was an amazing college student. He always worked hard at his shop and he was thankful for him because, if he were honest, he wouldn't have gotten this far without him since everything in his life did a complete one eighty.

He climbed into his car and closed the door. He gunned the ignition before he fastened his seatbelt. He knew exactly where he was going to go tonight since the shop wasn't going to be open tomorrow. It was a Saturday night after all.

* * *

He pulled into a parking space next to the brick building that was well lit around it. He felt the excitement inside building as he exited his vehicle and walked to the door. As soon as he opened it, he got a whiff of cigarette smoke and alcohol. To most people it would be disgusting but to him, it was, well, normal to him; he was used to it. Weird enough, it wasn't that busy inside for it being a Saturday night. He was glad though; he didn't like being around a lot of people. There were a few guys at a pool table, a guy at the jukebox searching for a song and a guy and a woman sitting at the bar.

He walked the short distance to the bar and sat on the stool as his eyes searched the hard liquor that aligned the shelves against the wall. He didn't drink very much hard liquor. He was more of a beer guy but tonight he just felt like having something different. He really shouldn't be having anything at all but he often always gave into his demons.

"What can I get you tonight, sir?"

Paul looked over at the bartender who was coming from the back. He pursed his lips as he thought about it for a second. "Umm, how about some JD and coke?" He insisted.

The bartender nodded and grabbed the bottle of JD and a bottle of coke. He placed both of them in front of Paul before he grabbed a glass from the stack of shot glasses. He poured both of them into the shot glass and slid it over to Paul.

Paul grabbed it and swirled it around a little before he downed it in one take. Once he swallowed it, he sucked in a huge breath at the strong taste on his tongue as he slammed the glass on the table. "Can I have another?" Paul inquired as he already craved the taste.

* * *

After a few shots of his new favorite, JD and coke, and a beer, he decided to go over to one of the pool tables in the back of the bar. He was buzzed of course as he made his way to the green pool table that had the bright balls scattered all over it. He placed his beer down onto the wooden edge of the table before he grabbed the triangular object to round up all the balls into one spot. Once he did that, he picked up his beer and took a huge drink before he grabbed a pool cue that has hanging on the wall.

He broke up the balls with one shot and they scattered all over the surface of the pool table with loud clanks against the edges.

When he was in the middle of his game, he felt a gentle hand snake up his back and he jumped. He swiftly turned around and was faced with a woman that was smiling seductively at him.

"Hey, big boy. I've been watching you from the bar and I can tell you have some skills." She complimented, trying to seduce him. She stepped closer to him and lied her hands on his bulging biceps.

His biceps really were bulging because he was so stiff. He really didn't know what to do right now with her.

"What else do you have skills in? Perhaps, you can show me back at my apartment." She placed her finger underneath his bearded chin.

He quickly whipped his head away from her touch and gave her a look of disgust. He may have been buzzed but he can tell what a whore looked like in his state. He stepped back from her. "No thanks, I'm not interested." He tried to say politely while he still had that disgusted look etched on his tired face.

She began to panic. He was damn hot and she didn't want him to get away without her having a piece of him. She pushed further by advancing towards him with a smile on her face that she thought was going to lure him in. "Oh come on, I know you want some. I bet you haven't had any in a while because women probably treat you like shit and take advantage of you."

Paul immediately thought of his used to be wife and felt anger rise to the surface. "Get the hell away from me you fucking whore! Get away from me!" He screamed, catching everybody's attention in the bar. He noticed the shocked look on her face from his sudden outburst.

Her smile faltered quickly and she felt brutally rejected. Even worse, he called her a "fucking whore". She angrily trudged toward him and slapped him hard across the face, causing his head to whip to the side. When she spotted the huge red mark on his cheek, she huffed and briskly walked out of the bar.

Paul was left standing there, embarrassed for the second time today. He felt everyone's eyes on him and they felt like they were burning a hole into him just like the ferocious slap he received just seconds ago. He brought his hand to his cheek and felt the heat radiate off the skin. He couldn't tell if it was from the slap, from embarrassment, or both.

He let his hand fall from his face and to his side as he looked at the pool table. All the balls were still in place where he left them before that woman confronted him. He glanced up at the few people around him and realized that they were all staring at him. He quickly looked back down and licked his lips anxiously. He couldn't believe that he called her a whore, screamed it at her none the less. He has never talked to a woman like that and never planned on it because he had respect for women. It was clear though that she didn't respect him with her ignoring his rejections. She just wanted him for sex, that's all.

Hell, he didn't respect himself either.

"Are you alright, man? She laid it on ya."

He looked back at the man standing behind him who had an amused smile on his face.

Paul cleared his throat before replying. "Yeah, I'm just great." He muttered sarcastically. He just wanted to get out of there because it felt like the four walls of the room were quickly closing on him. He left the pool table the way it was without putting the pool cue back up and quickly left the bar. The chilly night air on the other side of the door lowered his rising body temperature. He took a deep breath so he could take in the crisp air. For a second, it made him feel alive. As he walked down the sidewalk on the side of the bar, he took in the silence of the late night. It was sure the opposite from the depressing country music booming through the small bar.

Once he reached his car, he longed for the trip home to be quick so he could sleep, sleep the struggling day and night away.

* * *

As soon as he arrived home, he took a hot shower and stayed there for damn near an hour. It was just so soothing to him. He skipped dinner because he was kind of full from the amount of alcohol he drank and he just was too lazy to prepare something, even if it was as easy as a TV dinner or something else microwavable. Luckily, he only had a buzz going on and wasn't full on drunk because if he was, then he wouldn't be able to enjoy the clear night sky. Well, he wasn't really _enjoying_ it; he was just staring out in confusion with his everyday thoughts.

He was sat on the window ledge of his bedroom on the second floor of his house. It was completely dark in his room so the only light was the bright moonlight that flooded in through the open double doored window. His blonde hair was almost covering his face as he looked on at the millions upon millions of stars that adorned the dark sky.

"I'm so sorry, Shania. I never wanted you and Hunter to go." He whispered as a few tears fell from his teary eyes and streaked his cheeks. His 6'4, 250-pound frame trembled in the moonlight as his sadness took a never-ending control of his soul.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all for reading and please leave a review and/or favorite/follow. Feedback is much appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Hey guys, I am so sorry it took me this long to update! Work and school has gotten the best of me lol so since I took such a long time, this chapter is a little longer than the rest. Hope you all enjoy :)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone you recognize that is employed under Vince McMahon.

* * *

Pauls' eyes cracked open at a sudden ringing that filled the bedroom. The annoying sound made Paul groan irritably as he rolled over to grab the phone that was on the nightstand. His eyes were still a little bleary from his deep sleep as his hand tried to grab it. Once he did, he weakly pushed the 'talk' button and put the device to his ear. "Hello?" His gruff voice spoke.

"Hey, honey, did I….did I wake you?" The soft female voice asked on the other end.

He sat up in his bed and sat against the bed frame. "Yeah, I mean no." He staggered with his words. He didn't want to make his mom feel bad for waking him.

"I did didn't I? Paul, it's past noon." She chuckled on the other end.

Paul whipped his head to look over at the digital clock on the table. It was well past noon and he sighed. "Yeah, I had a tough day at work yesterday and it's Sunday so why not." He explained, knowing damn well that he was lying through his teeth. He didn't want to confess to her that he had cried himself to sleep last night after sitting on the window sill for a little while to gaze the night sky and wallow in his sorrows. He just didn't want pity from anybody, especially from his mom.

Unfortunately for Paul, she could tell that he was hurting at this very moment. She knew her son more than he knew himself. "Are you feeling okay, honey?" She asked. She didn't really want to probe him for answers because everything that happened was still fresh, painfully fresh.

The large man felt tears welling up in his already swollen eyes. There was something about when somebody asks that question and you get so emotional. He let out a shaky breath. "Mom, why do you have to ask that?" He whispered as his voice broke. He pinched the skin between his eyes before rubbing them.

Her sons' broken voice broke her heart and just from the telephone, she can feel his pain. The pain resonated between the both of them and she wished that he would understand that he wasn't the only one going through this. "I'm just concerned is all. Do you want to come over and visit me and your dad?" She asked, hoping that he would accept the invitation. He hasn't come by their house in a few months. Even though she has visited him several times throughout the past three months, she still missed him. She missed having him around the house like he was their little boy again.

He sighed and gave it some thought. He didn't really want to be around people or family. Then again, this could be the breather that he needs. He needed somewhere else to go other than work, the bar, his junky friends' house, and this house. He drinks himself into an oblivion at every one of those places except for work. Hell, he's been tempted to hide alcohol in his desk drawer, anything to tune out the complaints of the customers.

"Paul, are you there?"

Her curious voice brought him out of his thoughts and he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'll come over, just give me a little bit okay, mom?" He said as he started untangling himself from the sheets and getting out of the huge bed.

She felt excitement rush through her at her sons' words. "Okay, take your time. We'll wait for our lunch until you get here so you have something wholesome to eat." She was aware of his eating habits and she absolutely despised it. She has noticed that he's put on a little weight but when she brought it up to him, he would be in denial about it.

"Alright, mom, I love you." He mumbled into the phone as he walked out of his room.

"I love you too, bye."

He heard the 'click' on the other end which indicated that she ended the call. Now that he was in the kitchen, he sat the phone down on the counter before he stomped over to the fridge. When he opened it, his eyes lit up at the brown bottles on the top shelf. He deftly reached for one and kicked the fridge close, making it rattle. He opened it right away and took a swig of the ice cold adult beverage. He felt the burn all the way down his throat and to his stomach and it felt great to him. It was the relief he needed every morning….and all day.

* * *

Once he finished his beer, disposed of it, and got dressed, he went into the bathroom and washed out his mouth. Luckily for him, he only had one beer so the smell wouldn't be as strong. He popped open the mouthwash and swished a mouth full of it in his mouth. He was thorough with this because his mom and dad had no idea that he was an alcoholic. Again, they have only seen each other a handful of times in the past few months. When she would say that she was coming to visit, he would hide all the beer he had in a closet or something so she didn't see it. She would be devastated if she found out that he poisoned his body with all of that.

He spat the blue liquid into the sink and washed it out before he stepped out of the bathroom. His honey brown eyes searched the floor for a shirt that he could wear to their house. His floor was littered with clothes because he hasn't bothered to do laundry lately. Once he settled on a crumpled up red shirt, he slipped it on and finished getting ready to go to his parents' house for the first time in forever.

* * *

His feet padded on the green lawn that was in front of the small house. He looked to see if his mom was looking for him through the curtain in one of the front windows but he noticed that she surprisingly wasn't. He breathed in deep through his nose as he advanced towards the white front door. Once he did, he knocked quietly a few times before he placed his hands in his jean pockets.

As he waited for his parents to answer, he could hear birds chirping in the small tree behind him and so he looked back to observe them. They were hopping around on the flimsy branches and chirping loudly. They seemed so….free.

"Paul! I'm glad you could make it!"

Paul turned to see his ecstatic mom and his dad right behind her with a small smile on his face.

"Hi, son. How ya been?" His dad asked as he watched Paul give his mom a big hug.

Paul separated from his mom who was much smaller than him and gave his dad a half-hearted smile.

" _How ya been?"_

How the hell was he supposed to answer that simple question? He hasn't been good at all. In fact, he's been horrible. He's been an over emotional alcoholic who struggles with life in everything he does. He missed his family with every fiber of his being and that guilt weighs so heavily on his shoulders that he feels he shouldn't even be active, or somewhat active, in everyday life. He feels that it should be weighing him down so much that he lies in bed all day every day, wallowing in his sorrows with a beer in one hand and _the_ newspaper in the other. Hell, he doesn't work out anymore and he survives off fast food and frozen dinners. Could his dad not tell by the darkness around his eyes and the weight gain in his face?

"I'm good, dad." He answered right after his fathers' question. He didn't want to hesitate and have them be curious about his behavior. He didn't want to be probed from them because he knew he would just break down and probably would never stop.

"Like I said over the phone, you need to eat something wholesome, honey. Come and get some lunch." His aged mom insisted as she gently grabbed his large hand to lead him inside the warm home.

It was warm in many ways to Paul. Obviously, it wasn't just the comforting temperature inside but the _feel_ of it as well. It was always lively and everybody always joined together as a happy family. The warm home would be filled with laughs, conversations, and arguing over the sports game on the television. It was your typical healthy family home.

That was then, this is now.

"Alright, Pat, don't smother the boy. He just got here." His dad said with a slight chuckle as they entered the home.

Paul watched as his mom, Patricia or "Pat", walked into the kitchen to start preparing sandwiches for the three of them. He also watched in the corner of his eye, his dad sit on the reclining chair to watch tv. He was stood there, awkwardly, not knowing what to really do. He hasn't been over here in forever and felt….blame. Maybe it was just in his head because his mom was being such an angel with him and it healed his hurt for just that few seconds. She always called him up whether he was at work or at home, to ask how he was doing or just to hear her sons' voice. Hell, she makes him food. He could see her preparing the sandwiches as of right now.

Then there was his dad. Paul looked over at him and noticed that he wasn't even paying him any attention. He was just watching the game on the television with a serious look on his aged face. His dad, Paul Sr., never really called him after everything that had happened months ago. He only talked to him when his mom handed the phone over to him and when they actually did talk, it was small talk. Even though a few words would be exchanged on each end of the phone, it never broke the ice.

As he stood there for a few seconds, he felt that familiar touch. His heart beat frantically in his chest as he felt the tiny hand rest against his open palm. He didn't even move or flinch because he wanted to take in the familiar touch of his son holding his hand.

He felt so many feelings and memories rush back that it almost overwhelmed him. Right in this spot where he was standing, was where Hunter would hold his hand when they visited here. He was shy around older adults and so he always went to his daddy for comfort.

 _Flashback…_

 _It was Easter Sunday and Paul and Shania were going to visit Pauls' parents for the day. This would be a perfect beautiful day for Hunter to make some new friends and meet family he's never seen before such as family from out of state or newborn babies._

" _We're almost there, Hunter." Shania said happily in the rearview mirror at her son who was sitting in the middle seat in the back._

 _The little boy looked at his moms' reflection and gave her a small smile. He was a little nervous because he was incredibly shy around others._

" _Hopefully my mom made some of her world-famous stuffing. If she did, I hope she made a lot." He said with a chuckle as he kept his eyes on the road. They were about to enter the classy neighborhood where his parents lived._

" _Now we all know you're a big boy but make sure you save some for all of us."_

 _Paul smiled genuinely when he felt his wife's hand gently pat his muscular stomach. He quickly looked down at it and caught sight of her shiny wedding ring. He glanced over at her with a look of love before turning his attention back to the road._

" _Where dey live?" Hunter asked as he tried his best to look at the houses out the window but he was too short._

 _The little voice caught their attention. Paul looked at the rearview mirror as well at his son and noticed him sitting up as much as possible to see the houses. He laughed. "Just right around the corner. You see the house with the red front door and black trimming?" He asked as he pointed his finger out the window towards his parents' house._

" _Twimming? What's dat?" He asked innocently._

" _It's the lining of the roof, honey." Shania answered before Paul could._

" _Oh ok, I think I see it." The three-year-old said excitingly._

" _Well, of course you can because we're parked right in front of it now." Paul laughed as he unfastened his seatbelt. As Shania was unfastening hers, Paul climbed out of the car and opened the back door to reveal his smiling son. Paul smiled at the way Hunter had his arms out, wanting his dad to get him out. He stepped forward and got him out of the car, holding him to his side._

" _I think I see your mom in the window." Shania said as she pushed some of her beautiful blonde hair behind her ear._

 _Paul closed the door and locked the car before he looked over at the house. Yeah, his wife was right; his mom really was looking out the window at them like she always did._

 _Paul, with Hunter cradled in his arms, and Shania, made it over to the front door before it swung open to reveal smiling happy faces on the other side. Even a whiff of Easter ham and that stuffing hit them in a rush of air._

" _I'm so glad you guys could make it!" Patricia exclaimed as she stepped out of the house to give the couple a hug and a kiss before giving all her attention to her grandson. "Hi, baby! Are you excited to go Easter egg hunting with all the other kids?" She questioned after she kissed Hunters' chubby cheeks._

" _Yeah, I am, gamma." He replied shyly as he buried his face in his daddy's thick neck._

" _You are shy just like your daddy was when he was your age. Come in, guys. The food is about ready." Patricia said excitingly as she ushered the family inside the lovely home._

" _I'm going to go help your mom with the food." Shania said before she gently kissed Pauls' lips. "You boys be good." She smirked before she disappeared in the kitchen._

 _Paul smiled warmly and looked over at the little boy in his strong arms. "Alright, little man, go play with your cousins." He said, lowering Hunter onto the soft carpet. As soon as Hunters' tiny feet hit the ground, he grabbed his daddy's hand and squeezed it before he looked up at him._

" _No, daddy, I'm scared." His tiny voice whispered as his innocent worried blue eyes bore a hole in Pauls' own hazel eyes._

 _Paul quirked his eyebrows at him and scoffed softly. "There's nothing to be scared of. All these kids want to play with you." He pointed at a few kids running around in the backyard. "Go crush them in football or something." He watched as Hunter looked out the window in the direction Paul was pointing._

" _Maybe later." Hunter said before shuffling closer to Pauls' legs._

 _He couldn't help but smile. It always took Hunter a while to loosen up around others. Soon, he'll be out getting dirty and run out of energy like the rest of them. "I love you, little man, you know that?" He released Hunters' hold and wrapped his arm around his shoulders to hold him closer._

 _Hunter looked up at him with an adorable smile. "I wuv you too, daddy."_

"Damn it!"

Paul breathed in deep and shook his head of his thoughts when he heard his dad shout. He looked over and saw his dad scowling at the television in front of him. Paul smiled a little knowing that he was pissed at the ball game because his team lost. He nervously walked over to the living room area and slowly sat down on the sofa next to Paul Sr. When he looked at the tv, he could confirm that his team did lose.

Paul cleared his throat awkwardly and wiped his large hands on his jeans. His clammy hands were evident of the nervousness he felt inside because of the tense feeling in the air between the both of them.

He decided to speak up first. "Hey, dad, how ya been?" He asked as he eyed the older man.

Paul Sr. slowly looked over at him and didn't even crack a smile. "Well, how do you think I've been?" He said sarcastically before turning his attention to the television once more. "I guess I've been great." Again, sarcasm was clear in his voice which unnerved Paul.

He knew what this was about. "Dad, I…I'm sorry." His voice was just above a whisper as he dipped his head in shame.

Paul Sr. damn near whipped his head around to look at him with a fierce look which scared Paul to death. "You should be sorry. It's because of your careless actions that my daughter-in-law and grandson are not here anymore." He said with no remorse; his words were straight from the heart and were no lie. "The guilt should be eating you alive. I love you, son but I will never forgive you for what you did."

Paul felt more weight weigh heavily on his heart and shoulders. It felt like a force was pushing down on him and he couldn't breathe.

"The sandwiches are ready!" Patricia exclaimed happily when she walked into the living room, holding a tray of sandwiches. She immediately felt the tense atmosphere and frowned a little. She didn't doubt that it would be like this when Paul visited them both today. She set the tray down onto the coffee table that was in front of her son and noticed a broken look on his face.

"Great, honey, I'm starved." Paul Sr. said with enthusiasm before he got up from the couch to get a sandwich that his wife made for them.

"Paul, here's your sandwich." Patricia said sweetly before she placed it on a paper plate.

Paul deftly reached for the plate that his mother was holding out for him. He stared at the wheat bread and tried to remember the last time he had wholesome bread or hell, bread at all.

* * *

"That was really good, mom. It felt great having real food again." Paul chuckled.

"No problem, honey. I'm glad you had some real food. You shouldn't eat all that frozen stuff." She replied as she put the condiments and bread away that was scattered on the countertop.

He just shrugged as he watched his mom maneuver around the small kitchen. "I know." Was all he said as he folded his arms across his chest. If he had a dollar for every time his mom told him that, he could quit his job.

"How has work been? Is Chris still a great worker?" Patricia questioned as she wiped the counter down with a wet rag.

Speaking of quitting his job, it was as if she could read his mind. He sighed. "It's work and Chris is amazing at his job. I couldn't ask for anyone better than him." He stated proudly like Chris was his own child.

Patricia just managed a small smile towards her son. She remembered him being so happy and proud of his motorcycle business before everything that happened. He was so full of life and never complained about a thing like he does now. He could go on and on about all the accessories and a bike he sold that day. Now, "it's work".

As she peered into his tired hazel eyes, she saw what his soul has become. It was as if they were asking her for help but there was really nothing she could do but love him and show him that someone cares. She walked over to him and kissed him on his cheek before she pulled back and whispered to him, "It's okay, Paul."

He sniffed back his tears as he watched her leave the kitchen. She could read him like a book and he was somewhat thankful for that. Even though it was only the middle of the day, he felt fatigue start to settle. He exited the kitchen and spotted his parents sitting on the sofa together enjoying a tv show before his voice interrupted. "Well, I think I'm gonna hit the road."

His mom was the first to get up but his dad just remained seated like he didn't even hear him. "Leaving so soon?" She asked with a sort of sad look on her face.

"Yeah, I'm getting tired." He said while they walked to the front door. Patricia opened it and they stepped out onto the large porch. "Tell dad bye for me okay?" He gave his mom a hug so full of love and appreciation.

"I will, honey." She muttered into his shoulder. They broke apart and she said, "I'm sorry that it's like this here. I wish I can change the way he feels about you but I can't. I've tried, Paul." She explained disappointingly.

"Nah, don't worry about it, mom. It's okay." He lied. "I'll talk to you tomorrow or whenever, okay?"

"Okay, take care of yourself. I love you."

He smiled legitimately. "I love you too, mom."

Although, his father wasn't too fond of him, Paul was thankful that his mom invited him over for a much needed visit. He need his moms' love and comfort. It was like a life support holding him above water to give him just enough air to breathe while he sunk into the deep.

That illusion swam around in his head as he drove out of the quiet neighborhood and into the busy city. He didn't know where he wanted to go on his day off; he was tired and still hurt from what his dad told him earlier before lunch. That had to be the worst thing to hear from your own parent, that they are ashamed of you and will never forgive you for your wrongdoings.

Paul had to admit, he did deserve it.

* * *

Driving around aimlessly through the streets of Nashua, New Hampshire, his birthplace, he noticed that his gas was running low. He sighed and made a gas station his next stop. He did need some beer so that made him feel better as he parked in the almost empty parking lot of the gas station. There was only one car next to him he noticed as he stepped out and walked into the small store. When he stepped inside, he nodded to the cashier before he walked to the back of the store where the fridges were located. He pulled out a twelve pack of Budweiser and slammed the glass door shut which seemed to echo throughout.

When he made it to the front where the cashier was, he sighed once more when he saw a young woman stood in front of him paying for her things. At least, she was trying to pay for her things.

"Ma'am, if you don't have enough for these cigarettes then you don't have enough." The cashier spoke irritably as he watched the woman dig through her purse nervously.

"No, please, I do. I just need to find a few more quarters." She sounded worried or desperate.

The man behind the counter sighed and rolled his eyes. When he saw Paul standing behind her, he motioned for him to step up.

Paul quirked his brow at him. "Don't you have to help her first?" He asked curiously as he glanced at her to find her still struggling to find the change.

He just shook his head at his question. "She's taking too damn long. This is like the third time in the past couple of days she's done this." He said as he grabbed the box of Budweiser from Paul and scanned it to ring up the price. "$13.99, sir." He added.

Paul opened his wallet and took out a twenty before he heard commotion next to him. He looked over and saw that the woman had dropped pennies on the floor and she cursed under her breath. He cleared his throat and handed the money to the irritated cashier. "I'll buy her cigs too."

The brunette looked up at him as if he had saved her from danger and just looked at him with so much appreciation in her eyes. "Thank you so much. You really didn't have to." She said softly.

A first look at her face dumbfounded Paul. She did not look like the type to smoke and she was just so young. Her face was young; she had blue eyes and a bright smile. He almost regretted buying her the cigarettes. "It's no problem." He replied as he grabbed the change from the other man and stuffed it into his jean pocket. He watched as she grabbed the pack and looked back at him with a smile.

"Thank you again. I owe you." She said appreciatively before she walked out of the gas station.

Paul turned his attention back to the cashier, remembering that he completely forgot about the gas he needed. "Oh yeah, ten on three, please." He said, handing him more money. "What a pretty girl she was. She shouldn't be smoking." He added which caught the other mans' attention.

"Yeah, you're right. Smoking ruins people, man."

Paul thought about that. He knew that he shouldn't be talking but her addiction or whatever could really cost her someday. Here he was holding his addiction in his hands while helping others with theirs.

"Have a good day, man." Paul said to the cashier with a half-hearted smile before he walked out of the store. He looked around and didn't see that woman anywhere. Where the hell did she go so fast?

Paul just shrugged and threw the case of beer in the passenger seat. A thought creeped into his mind as he stared at the box of alcohol. The fact that it was so quiet outside made it more difficult to stop the images from showing up in his mind.

He thought of how his love, his wife, would sit in this very seat. Well, not the exact seat since this was a different car but the passenger seat nonetheless. Paul, Shania, and Hunter would always come to this gas station when they were on their way to a destination somewhere. He could imagine her looking up at him smiling. He could imagine Hunter being an energetic little guy in the backseat. He could hear his tiny voice in his head and he let out a shaky breath.

A semi-truck honked its horn as it drove and it made Paul jump out of his skin. The laughs vanished and now all he could hear was the gentle breeze going through the trees around the gas station.

He just sighed tiredly and shut the door quietly before he went to fill his car up in the middle of the quiet lot.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all for reading and like always, please leave a review and/or favorite/follow!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Guys, I'm so sorry for taking so long to upload again! I lost focus for a second lol this chapter is shorter because I just wanted to get it uploaded. This chapter digs deep into the relationship between Chris and Paul and also the friendship between Paul and Ray. I hope you all enjoy!

 **Disclaimer: I only own Chris and Ray.**

* * *

The bike shop was quiet like usual since it was only Paul and his employee, Chris in the back. It was early in the morning so they weren't expecting any costumers to come walking in anytime soon. Paul just wanted to try to get one the bikes fixed before noon which is when they are the busiest throughout the day. So, he called Chris and asked if he can come in and help since he didn't want to be by himself. If he were to be by himself, he knew he wouldn't get anything done.

"Now let's put the oil tank back in its place." Paul said as they both held the tank with dirty hands that were almost black.

"Yup." Chris said as they carefully put the oil tank back on the motorcycle with ease. He was surprised, actually, surprised would be an understatement, that Paul had called him in this early. His boss always liked for him to come in at nine in the morning but today, he asked him to be here at six. He figured that Paul wanted to get another motorcycle in the shop to sell.

Paul smiled once they finished with all the parts and stood up to stretch. "Now, we'll just shine it up and roll it on out there." He said simply as he looked over at Chris, who was almost like his son. He noticed that he looked tired and felt bad for the kid. He was a college student so he could've used those extra hours of sleep. "Sorry I called you up this early, kid. I'll pay you double for these couple of hours."

Chris just shook his head vigorously. "There's no need, Paul. I enjoy doing this, obviously since I'm in college for mechanics." He chuckled after sounding serious. He knew that his boss had been having financial issues as of late so he thought the extra pay was very unnecessary.

Paul gave him a half-hearted smile before he grabbed a clean cloth off one of the many benches that were in the garage. "Okay, good point." He said as he handed Chris the cloth to shine up the nice dark blue chopper.

The 23-year-old took the cloth from his boss's large hand and was consumed by his thoughts.

Once Paul handed him the cloth, he went straight to a motor that was picked apart on a wooden bench. He put a few things together before he noticed how quiet the other man was behind him. He put a screw down and turned to look at him. He noticed that Chris looked like he was in the days. He quirked his eyebrows and walked the short distance to peer at him. "Chris? You alright, man?" He asked with a hint of worry in his voice.

He took in a deep breath and quickly looked over at Paul, who had a look if concern on his face that was decorated with oil and grease marks. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine." He said quickly. He really was fine. He was just thinking of how thankful he was for Paul and how much he changed his life for the better. "I'm just…oh man." He had to stop himself because his eyes were staring to burn with tears that were threatening to fall.

Why did it seem like he was going to cry? Paul thought that question as he squatted down next to the young man. "What's wrong, kid? You were just enjoying yourself a few minutes ago." He said as he looked him in his eyes.

Chris sniffled and lightly wiped his nose with his greasy hands. He looked over at him with a serious look. "You're like a father to me, you know that?"

Everything seemed to quiet down in the large space around them. The atmosphere was suddenly serious and full of emotion. Paul knew that he was like a father to him but how Chris said it, was just so full of emotion.

It was straight from the heart.

He smiled warmly. "Of course I know that. I've known that since the first week you started working for me. Well, since you started working _with_ me." He said proudly before he squeezed his slender shoulder.

Not to sound cheesy but Paul filled the empty space that Chris had in his soul all his life. "You've always been there for me when nobody else was."

Paul gave him a sympathetic look even though he didn't really want to because Chris hated when people felt sorry for him. He knew what this young kid was talking about and it bothered him to his core.

"I don't even know who he is and I don't need to because I have you." Chris explained with a smile as he started to slowly polish the motorcycle that they had been working on all morning.

These moments are when Paul feels alive. He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You're great, kid, thank you." He said before he stood up with a smile plastered on his face. "Now, let's get this baby out there, yeah?" He said with enthusiasm as he clapped his hands loudly. That was really the first time that they talked personally like that. Well, they probably have before but he really felt what Chris was saying this time and it felt good to hear it all.

"Yup, for sure." Chris said as he wiped off the gas can.

After a few minutes of cleaning off the beautiful chopper, they rolled it out together into the shop so customers and take a look and hopefully buy it. They had one more bike out but Paul hasn't sold it. It has probably been up for sale in the shop for about three weeks now because a lot of people didn't like the bright orange color on it. With that in mind, Paul has thought about shelling out a few bucks and getting it painted a completely different color.

"Alright, perfect." Paul said once they settled the bike next to the other one. "You can go home and get some rest if you want to. We don't start getting customers until noon anyway." Paul explained as he wiped his hands off with a rag.

Chris looked back at him. "Are you sure, Paul?" He asked.

He nodded confidently. "Yeah, go get rest. It's not like you don't need it."

"Okay, if you insist." He said before he walked to the back to retrieve his bag. Once he came back in, he waved bye at his boss. "See you in a little bit."

Paul waved back and listened as the door slammed behind his only employee.

It was quiet again just like it was before Chris arrived in the wee hours of the morning. Paul sighed and walked to the front desk and sat down on the plush chair. He brought some papers from his office to do since he didn't want to be stuck in his office the entire time. He wanted a bigger space to work in and also to look after the front door.

Speaking of the door, he sighed once more when he realized he forgot to lock it after Chris had left. He reluctantly got up and walked over to lock the door. He looked out and saw that the sun was starting to rise much more than before. He noticed his shop was well lit now when he looked back behind him to go back to his workplace. He stopped in his tracks though when he spotted a tiny dent in the floor where the merchandise and motorcycle parts were located.

"Ah, shit." He whispered with a small smile.

 _Flashback…_

" _Daddy, what dis?" Little Hunter asked his father curiously as he pointed up at one of the gadgets hanging on the wall of Pauls' bike shop._

 _Paul ruffled his sons' blonde hair. "That's a radiator, little dude. It cools the engine on the motorcycles and cars as well." He explained proudly. He loved telling Hunter about everything when he asked. He wanted him to learn so he could be like him someday. Like when he retires years from now, he would give Hunter everything._

 _Hunter squealed in delight at learning what the part was before he pointed at the other thing next to it. "What dat?"_

 _Paul then looked at the cylinder parts and smiled. "Those are mufflers. They make the motorcycle quieter."_

" _Ohhh…." Hunter said as his eyes scanned everything._

 _Paul laughed at how interested he was in everything. He acted like this was the first time he's been in the shop. He's been in here plenty of times when Shania was with him. That was the thing. Shania wasn't with them so Hunter had all the freedom in the world to look around and observe everything that was a part of his dads' successful business. She always worried that Hunter would get hurt or he would break something because this inventory was not cheap. Shania was currently at the supermarket getting groceries for their dinner tonight so since Hunter absolutely hated going grocery shopping, she dropped him off with Paul. Of course, he didn't mind one bit since he wasn't very busy today. It was the middle of the week after all._

" _Oh, daddy! What dis?"_

 _Just then, Pauls' cell phone buzzed on the front desk which interrupted the moment. "Hold on, Hunter. I'm gonna get this text, alright?" He said as he walked over and retrieved the buzzing device._

 _Hunter frowned as he watched his daddy walk away from him when he just asked him a question. Letting his curiousness take over, he stepped up at one of the tables where speedometers and headlights were set up and reached up as much as his short arm would to get something in his grasp. He looked back innocently at his father who was still face down in his cell phone to make sure he won't notice him. He turned his attention towards the stuff he was reaching for and grabbed something incredibly heavy. When he got a hold of it, he gasped as he struggled to keep hold of it as it was too heavy._

 _When Paul heard that sudden gasp, he whipped his head up and felt his heart sink. "Hunter, no! Put that down!" He yelled before he shoved his phone in his pocket and ran over. Unfortunately, he was too late when Hunter dropped a motorcycle seat on the floor with a heavy thud._

" _Uh oh!" Hunter quickly stepped back from the gadget that had fallen on the floor. When he saw his dad run over, he felt scared. "I'm sowy, daddy." He apologized in a tiny voice as he looked at his frightened dad._

 _When Paul realized that the seat had not fallen on his sons' feet, he breathed a sigh of relief. He would've felt so awful if Hunter had gotten hurt because he wasn't paying attention when he should've been. Therefore, since he wasn't paying attention, Shania would've chewed him out and rightfully so. Even though he didn't get hurt, Paul still felt angry because Hunter knew better than to grab things off of shelves and off the wall._

" _Hunter, damn it. You know better!" He shouted a little louder than he meant to. He picked up the seat and examined it. The paint was chipped and it had a dent just like the floor did._

 _Hunters' bottom lip trembled. "Sowy." He said quietly as he ducked his head slightly. He wasn't used to getting yelled out by his dad and so when he did, it was devastating to Hunter._

 _Taking his eyes off the seat, Paul looked over at his son and noticed that he was heartbroken by the look on his face. His blue eyes were filled with tears and his bottom lip quivered. He also had his arms folded across his chest and Paul felt the anger and frustration melt away. He sat the seat down where it was sat in the first place before he walked over to Hunter and squatted down in front of him._

" _Hey, little man, accidents happen. I know you're curious about everything but don't pick up things when I'm not right there with you. I'm sorry I shouted. You just scared me because I thought your feet were smashed." Paul explained as he wiped a tear away off Hunters' cheek. He was an emotional person just like Shania was._

 _Hunter just smiled despite himself and wrapped his arms around Pauls' thick neck. "I wuv you, daddy. No more picking up stuff wifout you." He mumbled into his neck._

 _Paul felt his heart skip a beat at his innocent apology. He wrapped his arms around him and engulfed his little frame with his massive arms. He rested his hands on his back as he said, "I love you too, little man."_

 _It was really amazing how smart Hunter was. He was quick at learning what his parents tell him._

" _Let's go shine something up, yeah?" Paul asked when he broke from the sweet embrace._

 _Hunters' face lit up. "Yeah!" He bolted for the back door to the shop and Paul laughed as he got up and went after him._

Although, he broke his sons' heart for that split second, the smile never left his face. Hunter absolutely loved everything that had to do with Pauls' business. Whether it'd be working on small things, shining up parts, or cleaning up the store, he loved it.

The smile disappeared when he realized once again that Hunter would never have the chance to take the business when he retires. He wishes that he could just go to them and say sorry and bring them back into his life, but he couldn't. That was the cold hard truth that he had to live with.

"Paperwork ain't gonna finish itself." He sighed as he slouched his shoulders before he went back to the front desk to resume work before the day officially started.

* * *

"Hey, man, I'm all outta beer and I'm completely fucking broke. Can I take a few beers from ya?" Paul said into his cellphone as he sat at his desk, undoing his tie from around his neck. He was asking his junkie friend for his beer and he felt slightly embarrassed. When he said that he was broke, it wasn't a complete lie. All he had money for was his bills. He didn't have enough to fuel his alcoholic self.

"Yup, for sure, just come on over." Ray said confidently on the other end.

Paul breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know if he could go one night without beer. "I'll be over in a few. I'm just wrapping things up here at work." He replied as he stood up from his chair and gathered the papers that were scattered on his oak desk. After he fixed up a motor for one of the bikes, he had to go straight to paperwork which is what he hates most.

"Cool, I'll be waitin'."

Paul just flipped his cellphone shut before he pushed it down into his dress pants pocket. He found it odd that he was wearing dress clothes while he fixed a motorcycle a little while ago. He really had no choice anyway because Chris had to leave early for a test which Paul understood. Chris was supposed to repair the motor while Paul filled out the blasted paperwork. That explains why he was here in the shop so late at night.

* * *

"This game is bullshit, dude."

Paul looked over and nodded at Ray who was sipping on a beer as well. "Yeah, it is. I mean, how did he not see the ball coming straight at him?" He motioned his hand to the small tv in annoyance.

"Hell if I know. Dude needs more practice or somethin'." Ray replied before he took a huge drink of his beer.

Paul was paying attention to the game on and off throughout the past hour because he couldn't get his dad off his mind. He wondered if his dad was watching this very same game right now. It was a little late for his parents to still be up but when there was a game on with his favorite team, he's going to stay up and watch it. He wanted to call his dad and talk with him through the game but he was….scared. He didn't know how he would react to him. After the hurtful things he said to him yesterday, he wondered if he would ever go back to that house he once called his loving home when he was a child.

"Yo, Paul? Where the hell are you?" Ray asked as he nudged his friend who seemed to be in the days.

Paul shook his head. "Huh? What? Oh, just thinking is all." He said acting like it was no big deal.

"Man, you're always "thinking". Have you had any pussy lately?"

He looked over at him with a squinted look. "Excuse me? Why don't you mind your own damn business." He said bitterly before he turned his look full of glare to the game. He raked his large hand through his hair in annoyance before he drank the remaining beer in the bottle he had been holding all night.

"Whooo, shit, man. You need to relax." Ray put his hands up in surrender. "I know you haven't gotten laid since…." He stopped himself before he went too far. Yeah, he was a dumb junkie but he had enough sense not to open up Pauls' wounds and pour salt into them.

His "friends'" statement really dug underneath his skin and didn't know how to react. He could easily knock his ass out or he could do it the easy way. "I'm going to get another beer." He muttered before he quickly got up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen.

Ray just sat there breathing a sigh of relief that Paul didn't kick his ass just now. Paul was three times his size and he should know better than to bring up that sensitive subject. He met Paul about six months ago and remembered Paul as the coolest guy he had ever met. He loved his family with everything inside of him and always kicked ass at his job. It was almost weird that he considered him a friend when Ray himself was a drug addict and an alcoholic. Maybe he liked him because he purchased Pauls' very first motorcycle that he had fixed up and put up for sale in his, at the time, new business. They had bikes and some sports in common but the drugs and alcohol were not. Hell, Paul wasn't even drinking before they met each other and definitely before everything abruptly ended for him. Now, it was Pauls' lifeline.

* * *

Pauls' silhouette was barely visible in the dark kitchen where he currently stood. He gazed out at the trillions of stars in the night sky like he often did with the moonlight illuminating his face in a light blue hue. After he retrieved his cold beverage out of the fridge he decided that he needed to cool off, so he looked on at the peaceful scenery on the other side of the dirty glass.

Ray never did take care of his house. There was always trash everywhere and it always stunk. The stench could either be coming from the take out he had last week that was sitting on the counter or him not taking a shower for that same amount of time.

Shania always told Paul that Ray wasn't a good man and that he should stay away from him.

He never listened to her.

Now, he was an alcoholic mainly because of him. Ray taught him how to deal with his pain with alcohol.

All of a sudden, the kitchen lights illuminated the kitchen and his thoughts were interrupted. He turned to see Ray standing there with an amused smile on his face. "What the hell are you doing standing in the dark?"

"I needed a moment to myself." Paul said plainly while he brushed past him.

When Ray walked back into his own living room, he spotted Paul sitting on the couch where he was just a few minutes ago. "Hey man, why'd you leave early the last time you were over here?" He asked randomly as he dug in his back pocket for his cigarettes. When he came down from his serious high that one night, he noticed Paul had left and he's questioned why ever since.

Shit. He knew he was going to ask him that sooner or later. Did he know that he wound up in the hospital too? Hell, Chris didn't know about that because he didn't want him to so Ray most possibly didn't know. "I didn't want to put up with you being on your shit." He spat out before he took a drink of his ice-cold beer.

Ray was taken aback at his friends' bitter tone. "Paul, you knew how I was and what I did before we even became friends. All of this is your choice." He explained before he lit up his cigarette and took a puff from it.

Paul sighed. He hated being put on the spot like this because he didn't want to explain to him that he was really the only friend he had ever since what happened with his family all those months ago. Everybody had basically given him the finger and left him alone in his misery. Almost like his dad but he still speaks a few words to him when he has to.

He felt fucking pathetic.

"I don't know." That was all he said as he rested back against the dirty couch. "I just don't know anymore."

Ray chuckled. "Man, you need something more than beer to take the edge and clear your mind."

Paul looked over at him suspiciously and when he spotted the knowing smirk on Rays' face, he knew exactly what he was talking about and he was being put in this spot once again.

Illegal drugs.

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 **A/N: If you're a usual reader of this story, please review and let me know what you think! Same goes for the new readers! Review/favorite/follow!**

 **On a side note, I think next chapter I'm going to start getting into the storyline more and Stephanie will soon be introduced.**

 **Thanks :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** This is a short chapter because I just wanted it short and sweet. STEPHANIE HAS FINALLY BEEN INTRODUCED! lol I wanted to let you guys know that some of the flashbacks and whatnot are from previous chapters and that you know I'm just writing random stuff down. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own anyone you recognize from WWE.

* * *

The large space of the bathroom was clouded with steam that was coming from the shower. The shower where Paul was taking in the hot water that cascaded down his tired body. It was like he was in his own little world as he stood underneath the shower head for about twenty minutes now just letting his thoughts consume him. The thoughts of what had happened just a mere forty minutes ago.

He was once again offered cocaine by Ray. Each time that he set up the line for him on the cluttered coffee table his brain went haywire. It was overwhelming to him because he has never been around illegal drugs. When he had Shania and Hunter in his life, alcohol was non-existent in his life, nevermind drugs. He didn't know why Ray always offered it to him either. Maybe he can see the pain in Pauls' eyes and thinks that cocaine will numb him. That is what those drugs are known for anyway.

A weird feeling comes over Paul though when he sees the white line and rolled up dollar bill. He doesn't decline his offer right away. He just sits there staring at it. Hell, he got addicted to alcohol within the first bottle. The effects would make Paul get easily addicted and therefore, he wouldn't feel anymore pain. Factors always made him think twice though when he stared into Rays' sucked in proud eyes.

He couldn't do it for the sake of his job. That was the very thing that keeps him waking up every morning. Even though he had lost passion for fixing and cleaning motorcycles, he still had to keep his house and eat. This was the house that him and Shania bought together right after they got married because Paul had struck it rich with his business. This was the house that they first made love in. This was the very house that Hunter came home to after he was born.

God, he misses them.

Feeling the water suddenly grow cold as it beat against his skin, he blinked twice and noticed his eyes hurt. He was crying and he didn't even know it. He was too busy reminiscing back to the life that he once had. He calmly turned the knobs until the water shut off. Now, the only sounds that could be heard was the last of the water swirling down the drain and his sniffling. He stepped out and grabbed the towel off the rack and dabbed at his bearded face a few times before he turned his attention to the huge mirror in front of him. He suddenly remembered when Shania would do her hair and makeup in this mirror. She would often write notes on it with her lipstick just to tell him that she loves him.

 _Flashback…_

 _Paul stepped into the bathroom that was joined with their master bedroom and immediately noticed his wife stood in front of the mirror putting on that makeup that she dabbed on her cheeks. Paul didn't know what the hell that stuff was. He smiled softly as he leant against the door frame with his large hands in his jean pockets. His chocolate brown eyes scanned her body from head to toe. He could tell that she just got out of the shower because her hair was damp against her naked back. She was bare breasted of course but he couldn't see her because her arm was in the way as she did her makeup. Her lower half was covered with a soft towel but he still admired her beauty._

 _They had just gotten married so he was crazy in love with her._

 _He lifted himself from the door frame and quietly made his way over to her. He tried to be as quiet as possible so he can catch her by surprise. When he came up behind her, her head was down so she didn't see him before he tenderly wrapped his arms around her waist._

 _Shania jumped when she felt big arms wrap around her and a body pressed against her back but she instantly relaxed when she realized it was just the familiar embrace of her husband._

" _Hey, baby." She said with a sigh as she leaned back against his firm body. She could feel his beard gently scratch against her neck and shoulder as he lightly nuzzled her._

" _Why are you putting on makeup?" He questioned as he rested his chin in the crook of her neck to look at her in the mirror. "We just got home from dinner." He added._

 _Her lips turned up into a smile before she put her brush down to rest her hands on top of his that were on her hips. "Maybe I wanted to look beautiful for you." She rubbed his hands in circles._

 _He snorted and then laughed. He raised his head from her neck and looked down at her. "Really, Shania? Makeup? You look beautiful naturally." He spoke truthfully. He then leaned down to whisper in her ear, "And I think I want to see the rest of you, beautiful." His rough hands slowly moved up the soft skin of her abdomen. He heard her moan softly when his hands stopped just below her breasts._

 _Feeling his hands basically worship her, she felt that pit of desire grow in her stomach. She quickly turned and claimed his lips in a soft kiss. She sighed just taking him in. When he pulled away, they looked into each other's eyes. Love was so evident in each set of eyes._

 _It was when the sound of the heater turning on did they break the eye contact. The noise scared them both and eventually they started laughing. All of a sudden, Paul swept her off her feet which caught her by surprise._

" _Paul, what are you doing?" She asked in between fits of laughter as she wrapped her arm around his neck._

" _I'm taking you to the bedroom." He said with an amused smile as he carried her out of the bathroom while Shania giggled._

He was still staring into the mirror, not even aware that the bathroom had gone cold and now he was standing there shivering. To warm himself up, he bent down to grab a towel from one of the bottom cabinets so he can dry his hair with it. He reached for one in the very back and retrieved it before slamming the cabinet shut. When he looked back into the mirror, his heart jumped in his throat.

Her eyes were staring back at him and Paul felt as if he couldn't breathe. He could feel her presence behind him so she was really there. He blinked the tears from his eyes and a few fell down his cheeks.

"Shania?" He barely whispered. She looked so pure and beautiful. She was angelic. When she smiled softly at him, Paul tried to smile back but he couldn't. He was in complete shock to say the least and he was in awe of her. Was she really standing right behind him in this very bathroom?

The touch of her hand was so familiar. It was warm and it honestly felt so surreal. He stared down at her hand and breathed in deep, trying to keep his emotions under control. He shut his eyes and opened them to see her hand…gone.

His brain was struggling to come to terms with what and who he just saw. Her touch lasted for just a second but it seemed longer. It's been months since he's seen _her_. Did she sense his distress and come down from heaven to console him? It sounded ridiculous but he could bet his life on it.

Later on that night…

Paul lay there in his big bed just staring out into the night sky that shown right outside the open window. He couldn't sleep because his mind was still on what happened earlier in the bathroom. She looked so pure and healthy. Everything about her was bright. Her smile, hair, skin, eyes; she looked just like an angel. When she lightly touched his arm, it almost felt like he had her in his arms again.

He took his right hand and rested it on the spot where her hand was. He shut his eyes and kept rewinding that moment in his head.

* * *

Paul hopped off his motorcycle and removed his helmet as soon as he parked along the sidewalk in front of the local diner. It was nine in the morning and the local diner was already packed with hungry customers. It was a popular place to go to for on your way to work or on your way home. That was the case for Paul, who was on his way to work but was hungry so he stopped here. He didn't feel like cooking anything because he felt overwhelmed being in that house after what happened last night.

He made his way to the door and opened it to find the place as busy as it usually was. The small space was ridiculously busy and Paul sighed. He searched around for a booth and was relieved to see a booth in a far corner that was free. He quickly walked over there and set his helmet down onto the red table top. He noticed that there were food crumbs on it and he scowled. "Fuck it." He muttered to himself right before he blew the crumbs off the table. He sat down and watched on as waitresses ran around in the back in a hurry as some of them looked over the little notepads that had orders written down on them. The lady at the register was punching away at the keys on the cash register as the customer rambled on.

 _Sure glad I don't work here._ Paul thought to himself as he tried to get comfortable on the leather seat.

"Order 44 is up!" The cook yelled as he sat a plate of food out for a waitress to take to the customer that ordered it.

"Stephanie, can you get that please?"

Stephanie, one of the waitresses, was pinning an order up for the cook when her coworker asked her to take the food out. "Sure." She said as she grabbed the plate and walked out into the busy diner. She just so happened to remember what the people looked like that ordered the food. It wasn't the first time that she had to take someone's order out even though she didn't take it. Everybody gets mixed up when its busy.

She smiled as she approached the table. "Here you are." She said joyfully as she set the plate down in front of the two people sitting at the table. Once she was done with that, she looked around for any people that might be ready to order and saw a man sitting alone in a corner booth, who was staring out the window.

Paul was stuck in his own thoughts when a soft feminine voice got his attention. He looked over and saw one of the waitresses standing before him with a notepad and pen ready to take his order. She wore a tired smile.

"Hi, what can I get you this morning?" She asked politely and professionally. When she finally got a good look at him, she thought she recognized the man.

"Uh, yeah, can I get a cup of black coffee and a chocolate muffin?" He said in a monotone voice.

"Sure, coming right up." She said while writing down his simple order. When it was busy like this morning, she loved these simple orders. However, she was surprised that he was ordering a muffin. Just by looking at his physique, she figured that he always consumed protein shakes and supplements. A sugary treat just didn't fit him.

"Thanks." Paul muttered before he turned to look out the window again.

Stephanie turned on her heel and made her way back to the kitchen. As she was grabbing for a chocolate muffin with plastic tongs, her coworker cam up to her and said, "Hey, you know that guy you just went to?" She asked.

Stephanie got the muffin and sat it on a small plate. "Yeah, why, Joanne?" She asked curiously, not even looking at her as she started filling up the cup with straight black coffee.

"He came in here once all drunk off his ass. He couldn't even lift his head up or respond to us. It was damn annoying to say the least. We should just kick his ass out right now." She said with a voice full of malice.

"He seems okay to me. I'm just taking him his food and maybe he won't be here for long." She explained as she gathered the muffin and coffee. She faintly remembered when he was here drunk and unresponsive. She believed she was just going on her break when her coworkers were trying to wake him up. He seemed dead and it was horrifying.

Joanne shrugged. "Okay, well be careful. He looks like an asshole."

"You are so insensitive." Stephanie responded almost annoyed with her negative attitude. That was all she said to her before she walked out. She made her way to him and sat the two items down.

Paul once again looked away from the window and at her. "Thanks." He picked up the hot cup of coffee and took a sip of it. It was definitely a change from the typical alcohol that he constantly consumed.

"You're welcome. If you need anything else, I'll be back in a bit. Enjoy." She replied with a smile.

Paul didn't say anything as he just sipped at his coffee and watched as she walked away. The coffee was better than he thought it was going to be. It was actually refreshing to drink and he couldn't get enough of it.

Once he was finished with his food and coffee, he stood up from his booth and adjusted his jacket. As he did so, he looked down at the empty paper wrapper on the plate and the empty coffee cup. He honestly had no idea how much these two things were.

"Hi, are you finished up here?"

Paul turned to the familiar cheery voice. "Yeah. How much?" He quickly asked. He had to get to the bike shop before Chris got there so he wasn't standing outside waiting for him. It was ironic that she was right here when he was just thinking about how much everything was.

"5.75, sir." Stephanie said as she watched the man reach into his wallet.

He sighed as he didn't have enough change so he just pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the waitress. "You can keep the change. I'm in a hurry."

She slipped the money into the front pocket of her apron. "Okay, have a nice day." She spoke politely.

"You too." He then grabbed his helmet and headed out of the still busy café.

She watched him as he left and he couldn't help but think about what she had noticed when she first saw the man. His eyes were so sad and they just looked blank of any happiness or joy. She also couldn't remember him smiling once throughout the past half hour he was in here. He really just kept to himself. Then she remembered what Joanna said to her. He was the man that was so drunk he couldn't even communicate or do something as simple as lifting his head up off the table.

 _Flashback…_

 _Stephanie was on her way out the back door of the café for her break when she heard a shout from the dining room. Feeling curious as to why there was a shout, she turned and walked through the kitchen and to the register where she could get a clear view. In the far corner, she saw a few of her coworkers shaking a man's shoulders to wake him. He was face down on the table and wasn't moving at all._

 _She no longer felt curious. She felt terrified now that he could be dead so she ran to the phone that was on the wall and dialed 911._

 _The ambulance was on its way so she grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with cold water. She rushed to where they were and slammed the cup on the table to get his attention. "We have some water for you. Please wake up so we know that you are okay." She said worriedly as she searched his face._

 _A few seconds later his head shot up from the table which scared Stephanie because she didn't expect that reaction from him. All three of them tried to comfort him as he looked very distressed. Eventually, the paramedics arrived and took him away._

That was all she could remember from that day. She had never seen a grown man that vulnerable before and it broke her heart. The weird thing is is that she doesn't even know him. Wait, why did she care about him so much?

"Stephanie! There's people at table four!"

Her coworkers voice made her jump out of her trance. As if she was on autopilot, she took the money to the register and continued her hectic work day.

* * *

Pauls' Harley roared as it pulled into the parking lot of his shop. He immediately spotted Chris' car and a rare smile pulled at his lips. He could always depend on him arriving on time. He parked in his usual spot and climbed off.

"Hey, Paul!"

Chris' voice caused him to turn. "Hey, kid. How long you been here?" He asked as they made their way to the front door.

"Eh, maybe ten minutes." Chris replied as he ran a hand through his short dark hair. He watched as his boss inserted the key into the lock and opened up the shop.

"Oh, okay good. I just got breakfast real quick. I just wanted some time to myself before I came here." Paul explained while walking into his shop.

The young man frowned at his boss's response. "Is everything okay, Paul?" He asked quietly. He tried to search his face as they walked to the back where his office was. "It's not like you to be late, you know."

 _Damn this kid knows me well._ Paul said to himself in his head. He hung his leather jacket onto the back of his chair before running a hand through his golden strands. "I know. I just…." He stopped himself before he continued on with what he was going to say. He didn't want to say the truth because he didn't want to act insane. He didn't want to say that he saw his dead wife. He didn't want to say that he talked to her and she talked to him. He didn't want to say that he still feels her presence. "I had a bad dream and so I was up for a little while last night." He lied.

"Was it about her?" Chris asked silently, knowing that that question would be hard for Paul to answer. He may have only been half of Pauls' age but he could read him like a book and he wasn't stupid. "And Hunter?" He added silently as well.

Paul made eye contact with the kid he considered his own. His honey brown eyes stared deep into Chris' blue ones. It was like Paul was trying to answer his question through the look in his sad defeated eyes. "Yes." That was somewhat the truth.

If he hadn't been looking right at him or if he made a single sound, Chris wouldn't have heard him he was so quiet. He just nodded, not wanting to pressure Paul into answering anymore of his questions. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here." He said with a smile that he hoped would put the man at ease.

The older man returned the smile authentically. It felt good knowing that someone was there for him at least. "Thank you."

"I mean, I know I tell you that all the time but I want you to be okay." Chris stated honestly. This small business has been suffering for the past few months and he didn't want it to go under. It's been suffering because of Pauls' depression and Chris has tried his best to help out with absolutely everything.

"I am, kid. Don't worry. I couldn't imagine my life without this shop so I fight through it every day." His voice cracked.

* * *

 **A/N:** I actually enjoyed writing this chapter because it's the start of something new and I also introduced Stephanie which is a VERY important factor. I know, it is super emotional at times but bear with me that's just how the story is and that's how I write. Hope y'all don't mind lol

Please review/favorite/follow!

On another note, I was wondering what you guys would think about a new story that takes place in a 1920's mafia world with Paul and Stephanie? Please let me know what you think of that idea and if I should write it or not even though I probably will anyway lol. Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

Hey everyone, an update finally! I just wanted to say thank you to **LilCountry24** for your amazing and thoughtful reviews! I appreciate it so much!

I just wanted you all to know that the beginning of this chapter is a part of a flashback from chapter 2. Just so none of you are confused if you're a new reader or haven't read in a while. This is the longest chapter so far so I hope you all enjoy :)

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Triple H or Stephanie McMahon. They are property of WWE and Vince McMahon.

* * *

" _Hey, eat those vegetables, little man." Paul said to Hunter as he pointed at his unfinished plate all the while he was chewing on his own food._

" _But daddy, I don't like brocwee." Hunter said innocently to his father who was sitting across from him. He had been pushing the green veggie around on his plate since they got their food. He gulped down the chicken and mac and cheese but not his veggies and he knew that his daddy never liked that and neither did his mommy._

 _Paul sighed at his sons' stubbornness; he did take after him there. "Don't you want to be big and grown like me? So you can finally pick up one of those heavy parts at my shop?" He asked with a smile as he stared into Hunter's innocent baby blue eyes._

" _Paul." Shania scolded. She was sitting next to Paul as they ate at a restaurant. It was a family night out since Paul was off work for the day. The three of them going out rarely ever happened because he was all business all the time._

 _Paul looked over at his wife who was giving him a serious look. Shania never did like the idea of Hunter being around the shop and she didn't really condone Hunter actually picking up parts. He truly understood her because he was only five but he just wanted to introduce his son to everything at an early age like any passionate father would do._

 _He smiled softly at her before he took her hand and rested their joined hands on his thigh. He looked her in the eyes and said quietly, "I'm just trying to get him to eat his veggies. Relax, baby."_

" _Brocwee looks like a twee. It probably tastes like leaves." Hunter randomly mentioned with a disgusted look on his face._

 _Paul and Shania busted up in laughter at their sons' remark about the horrid vegetable._

" _Honey, no it tastes, well, like broccoli. It doesn't taste like leaves, silly." Shania explained to the annoyed little boy between giggles of laughter._

" _It looks like a tree because you'll grow big and tall like one if you eat it." Paul stated proudly. He was proud of what he just said to him._

" _Really?" Hunter wondered curiously as he cocked his head to the side._

" _Yup, as a matter of fact…" Paul started but was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. He ignored the rest that he was going to say and grabbed his cell phone out of his jean pocket. He flipped it open and read the message on the screen. He typed up his response immediately._

" _Paul, we are at dinner. Put the phone away." Shania said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. She loved him to death but sometimes business was too much._

" _It's important, babe." He replied, not even bothering to look at her. He finished and slipped his phone back into the pocket it was in._

 _Shania just sighed and then gave a small smile before she took a sip of her wine._

" _I'm full."_

 _Paul leaned close to the blonde next to him. "I think he's hinting that he just wants to leave so we don't bother him anymore."_

" _Nuh-uh!" Hunter exclaimed, knowing that his daddy was onto him._

" _I think so too." Shania smiled._

* * *

" _That was a nice dinner. We need to do that more often. I love to finally spend time with my boys." Shania gushed before she picked up her husbands' hand and kissed it lovingly._

 _Paul looked away from the dark road and at her. "Me too." He then looked into the rearview mirror at his son who was looking out the window at the vast darkness that surrounded them. "What did you think, Hunter?"_

" _It good." He said simply as he smiled, showing his teeth. His parents hadn't forced him to eat the blasted broccoli but they did say that he had to eat veggies tomorrow or he wouldn't get dessert and he LOVED dessert._

" _When are you off again, honey?" Shania asked before she looked away and out the window at the trees that aligned the street in the night. She kind of wished that they wouldn't have taken the back streets because she never did like being surrounded by forestry and darkness. However, they didn't want to deal with Saturday night traffic in town._

" _I believe next Saturday as well. Maybe I'll try to make this a weekly thing for the three of us." Paul replied as he kept his eyes on the road. All that was visible was the headlights and the objects that the light reflected off of._

 _Shania smiled brightly as she still held her love's hand. "That would be great."_

 _Just then, droplets of water started to spot the windshield, making it difficult to see._

" _Well, that came out of nowhere." Paul chuckled as he quickly switched on the wipers to clear the windshield. "Was it supposed to rain tonight?" He asked before he sat up straight in his seat so he could see better._

" _Um, I don't know. I didn't hear anything about it." She said, concerned about the weather. She noticed the rain started to become heavier and her worry settled in. She turned in her seat. "Hunter, baby, is your jacket back there?"_

 _The little boy looked around the back seat and shook his head. "Nuh-uh, no jacket." He confirmed._

" _Oh no. Well, you'll have to hurry in the house once we get home okay? I don't want you getting sick." Shania voice took on a protecting mother tone._

" _Man, this rain is coming down harder." Paul observed as he flipped the wipers to go faster. Outside the door he could hear the tires of the car on the already wet pavement. This rain literally came out of nowhere but that's how the New England area was. It could be sunny and then the moment you turn around it's raining. Unfortunately, this time, they just so happen to be driving in it at night._

 _Suddenly, a loud beep sounded in the small space of the car._

 _His cellphone._

"Sir? Sir?"

Paul snorted and breathed in deep before he looked up at the bartender in front of him. Through his hazy vision he could make out the tired bartenders face. "Wha…what?" He stuttered as he blinked slowly.

The bartender had been watching him for the past few hours and noticed his different mood changes just within that short period of time. He went from having a decent conversation with him to the man suddenly stare into space all the while he held a shot of whiskey in his hand on the bar. He figured that it could've been the alcohol taking an effect on him but he looked like someone had just told him that the world was going to end tomorrow. His face took on a depressed look. A look that he has seen many times in this bar but something was different about the customer in front of him.

He tried calling him a couple times but he just sat there as saliva started to come from his bottom lip as he just stared at nothing in front of him. His eyes were even bloodshot to where he was always scared for him.

"I think you've had enough tonight, sir." He stated firmly as he went to grab the shot from the man's hand.

Paul brutally whipped his hand away from him as if he just touched a hot stove. "Don't t…take my drink from me! I p…paid for this shit!" He yelled which caused everyone to look towards the bar and at Paul.

The bartender sighed. "I understand but your health is more important. You've had enough." He tried to plea with him.

Paul laughed through his drunken state and broken heart. "Do you th…think I care whether I live o…or die? Because I don't!" Tears slipped down his face as he broke down.

A few guys in the bar, who watched the whole scene unfold, took it upon them selves to help the emotional man out of the bar.

"I'm going to call a cab." The bartender said as he went to the back where the phone was located.

Paul flinched when he felt hands on his arm. He shot his head to the side to look at whoever it was that was touching him.

"Come on man, you need some fresh air." A random but generous stranger said to Paul.

Paul growled angrily at him and shot up from his stool to punch the innocent man in the face.

"Hey! Stop right now or I'll call the cops instead of a cab!" The bartender yelled as he ran around to the man that was lying on the floor from the blow. "Are you alright, sir?"

The man that tried helping Paul, stood up and spat out angrily, "That asshole needs some fucking anger management classes and self fucking control." Then he walked back to his seat.

Paul just slumped over onto the bar, oblivious of what the man said about him.

* * *

The tv was low and the light in the room was off as Paul sat in his lazy boy chair with ice on his hand. Now that he had a clearer head he realized just how hard he hit that poor guy at the bar earlier tonight. He was just trying to get him some help but he wasn't having it. It was just hard for him to except it when he's drunk and thinking about his family. Before the bartender woke him up from his daze, he was just looking back on a night with his wife and son. He remembers it clearly, more clearly than any other memory.

His focus left the tv and to his hand that was still throbbing a little underneath the bag of ice. It's exactly what his head felt like at the moment. He knew not to drink that much in public because he got violent when he was approached. It was one of those times where he just wanted to break down and unfortunately, he did in front of all those people in the bar. He just wanted to be left alone.

Ironically, there was a knock on the door that seemed to echo loudly from across the huge room. With a sigh, he reluctantly got up from the chair and immediately grimaced at the pain in his side. He knew the routine and tried to stretch it out but it didn't work. He would take some painkillers after he answered the door. He walked over with a limp and unlocked his door before opening it. A confused look played on his features when he saw who it was.

"Hey, mom. What are you doing here so late?" He asked, eager to know.

"I had a feeling that I should over." She confessed as she hugged her purse. "Can I come in, honey?"

Paul nodded his head as he stepped aside. "Of course, mom." He said invitingly. Yes, he didn't want to talk to anybody at the moment but his mom was the only one that really gave a damn about him anymore.

Once she was inside, he closed the door and peered over at her as she looked around curiously.

"Why are your lights off?" She questioned before she set her purse down on the coffee table that had a few beer bottles and Chinese take out scattered upon its wooden surface. She even eyed a bag of ice that was melting through the bottom of the bag, forming a small puddle on the table.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I…uh…have a headache." That wasn't a complete lie; in fact, he did have a hangover but he didn't want to tell her that. Although, it was obvious already. "What made you come by this late?" He asked, hoping to change the subject.

She looked over at her son. "I just had a feeling, Paul. Mothers have that instinct." She replied as she walked up to him. She noticed even in the dark room, that he was dark around his eyes. She could also smell the alcohol on his breath. "Come and sit down on the couch." She said in a soft voice as she took him by his hand. As soon as she came in contact with his hand, she heard his hiss quietly in pain. She quickly turned back at him and her eyes went straight to his hand. She lifted it up so she could see it better. She ever so gently ran her thumb over the dark bruise that colored his knuckles. "What happened?" She inquired as she ushered him over to the couch.

Paul felt like she was interrogating him at the moment and he felt slightly overwhelmed. He wanted to lie. He wanted to lie so bad so he didn't hurt her or worry her in any way but he couldn't. She cared about him so she deserved to hear the truth. Feeling ashamed, he looked down as he spoke. "I went to the bar last night and got drunk. I got pissed off at someone and punched them." He admitted.

Patricia gasped. "Why did you do such a thing?" She was almost at a loss for words at what he just told her.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I was just…thinking and then someone comes and interrupts my thoughts telling me that I've had enough to drink and tries to help me out of the bar." He said as he replayed that night through his head.

"You're lucky they didn't call the police on you, son." Her voice was stern, just like it should be.

He looked up at her through his eyelashes. "I know." He said quietly before a twinge acted up in his side. He winced and groaned deep in his throat.

"Is your side hurting you?" Patricia asked as she lied a hand on his broad shoulder. He's had the same pain for the last few months after he had surgery on his ribs. Looking at the physical and emotional pain in his eyes broke her heart.

"Yeah, it acts up every now and again. Usually when I sit down for a long time." He explained as he sat back against the couch, letting out a deep breath as the pain subsiding slightly. "Hey, mom, can you get me some of my pills? They are on the counter in the kitchen."

"Sure." She said simply before she sat up from the couch and made her way to the kitchen. She flipped on the light and when she took in the surroundings of the spacious and beautiful kitchen, her eyes went wide at the messes. The sink was full of dishes, the trash can was full to the top to where some beer bottles were about to spill out, boxes of food were scattered on the counter and the kitchen and it looked as if the floor hadn't been swept in weeks. She just sighed as she walked across the way to the orange bottle of pills on the counter. She popped open the bottle and poured a couple into her hand before she set it back down. She reached up into a cupboard and grabbed a cup to fill it with cold water from the tap. She had a hard time trying to fit the cup under the faucet because of the dirty dishes.

Once she filled the cup, she stepped away and out of the kitchen. When she rounded the corner, she spotted Paul still sitting in the same spot but she noticed that he was nodding off. 'Paul?" She called out to him.

He looked up at his mom through half lidded eyes. "Thanks." He took the two pills and popped them into his mouth before he took a drink of the water. He smacked his lips as he swallowed them down before he set the glass down in front of him on the table.

As she watched him, Patricia couldn't shake the questions that were burning in her mind. "Have you ever thought of cleaning your house?" She asked as she sat on the edge of the chair that Paul been sitting in just earlier.

Paul just shrugged as his eyes remained on the television. "What's the point? It's just me here." He sniffed back his congestion.

"Honey, this isn't healthy. Living around dirty dishes and just a dirty house." She replied as she looked into his eyes or at least tried to.

All of a sudden, Paul felt irritated. "Do you think I give a shit about being healthy?! Look at what I eat and what I do! I could care less!" After his outburst, he looked over at his mom who just listened to him. She rarely ever got mad at him for his outbursts and he was thankful for that. He just needed someone to understand his pain. His demeanor and voice softened. "Who do I have to be healthy for?" His voice cracked as he lost focus from the television, only because his vision became blurry.

Patricia got up and sat next to her emotional son. "I need you to be healthy for me. I love you, Paul. You're my flesh and blood and I will _always_ be here for you." She said softly as she brushed some matted hair out of his face and behind his ear so she could see his eyes. It hurt her deeply that he would even say something like that. She honestly didn't know that he was this hurt. She had another question but as soon as she saw tears flowing down his face, she pushed it into the back of her mind.

His moms' loving words brought tears to his eyes and he wasn't strong enough to hold them back. He let out a whimper and he felt his moms' arms wrap around his shaking frame. He wrapped his own arms around her and grasped her tight as he let out heartbroken cries into the crook of her neck.

She held him just like she used to when he was a little boy. Of course, when he was a little boy, it was something about school or a friend but this was something completely different that took a long time to heal from. She didn't say anything; she just let him let it out. She felt his wet tears against the skin of her neck as she rubbed his back.

* * *

Patricia looked at her son who finally fell asleep. After his breakdown, she told him to lie down and get some rest because he desperately needed it. He didn't argue with her and just did what she said. It seemed like as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

She was going to leave but she had to get something done first.

* * *

Mrs. Levesque wiped at her hands with a wash cloth as she looked around the clean kitchen. She had loaded the dishes into the dishwasher and started it, cleared out all the food boxes on the counter, took out the trash, and swept the floor. She couldn't leave knowing that this was what he was living in. It was ironic that he was in this huge beautiful house but it looked like that. She tossed the rag onto the counter and turned off the light as she exited the kitchen. When she returned to the living room once more, she grabbed her purse and bent down to kiss Paul on his forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart." She whispered before she pulled away. She turned the television off before walking the distance to the front door. She looked back quickly before exiting the house, leaving a clean kitchen and a sleeping Paul on the couch.

* * *

When Patricia had made it home from visiting her son, she walked up to the front door and she was surprised to see that the light in the living room was on. When she left, her husband had been sleeping at the time so the house was completely dark. When she opened the door and walked in, she spotted Paul sitting on the couch watching tv. She closed the door and he looked over at her with a worried look on his face.

"Where have you been?" He asked from across the way.

Patricia sighed as she set her purse down. "At Pauls' house." She replied quietly. She was still heartbroken from his breakdown and his mental state.

"Oh." Paul Sr. muttered as he turned his attention back to the tv, not really caring to hear what she had to say about it.

"He needs help." She blurted out before she wiped the tears from her eyes. That's the question she was going to ask her son but he was too emotional and she knew that she would either make it worse or he'd get angry at her. She was going to ask him if he's ever considered getting help but she already knew his answer. She knew that he wouldn't because his emotions have gotten the best of him and he believed his only help was loneliness and alcohol.

Paul Sr. laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I'd need help if I was him too." There was no remorse in his words.

She sighed irritably at her husband. She knew that he would be insensitive about Paul. He has been ever since what happened months ago. "Why do you have to be like that, Paul? Our baby is hurting and you think it's funny." She explained through tears of frustration.

He sat up from the couch and tossed the remote onto the couch next to him. "Pat, he's not a baby anymore. He can take care of himself."

"You have no idea how much pain he is in! I can see it in his eyes as clear as day!" She yelled which surprised Paul Sr. "You never bother to go and see him, Paul…"

"And why the hell would I want to do that?! It's his damn fault that our grandson and daughter in law are gone! I loved Hunter and I loved Shania like she was my own damn daughter!" He yelled back as a tear fell from his eye.

Patricia was surprised to see her husband shed a tear about the situation. He's always believed that men don't cry and has always been strong through the toughest of times. However, she felt offended at his statements. She loved Hunter and Shania with everything as well but his declarations were downright brutal. She went to say something but he cut her off again before she could open her mouth.

"Everything that happened and his well being now is all his choice. He decided to do what he did and I don't feel bad for him." He said sternly as he looked his wife straight in the eyes to show that he was saying the absolute truth.

She knew that he always believed in tough love but what he is saying is way over the line. "I can't believe you, Paul. I honestly can't." She said as she shook her head in disbelief. "Say what you want and believe what you want to believe but I'll be _damned_ if I let my son suffer alone like this." She added with a glare before she turned her back on him and went to their bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Pauls' eyes slowly cracked open and he blinked the sleep from his eyes before he was aware of his surroundings. He yawned and wiped at his eyes thoroughly. There was stuff in them from his dry tears that he shed last night. He realized that he was in the living room and that he had slept on the couch. He noticed that his tv was turned off and was thankful that his mom had turned it off for him. He couldn't really afford a huge electric bill.

He gingerly sat up and groaned at the pain in his neck and side. Sleeping on this couch did his body no good. He got up and stretched his arms and legs as he let out another massive yawn. He could tell that he had finally slept well because he felt more rested than he has in forever. It was quiet as he made his way to the kitchen to get something to eat. He stopped in his place when he looked at the kitchen. He was expecting to forge for a clean bowl and a box of cereal on the counter but everything was clean. It dawned in on him that his mom had cleaned it for him when she was here last night. Who else would've done it?

He smiled as he opened one of the cupboards and pulled out a box of cereal. Minutes later, he had a bowl of cereal and was going to let it soften up while he called his mom and thanked her. As soon as his hand was on the phone, it rang. He picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Paul! Are you on your way to the shop because there is a customer here waiting at the door and well….so am I." Chris laughed on the other line.

Pauls' eyes wide. Oh shit! He had slept in late. He kept his composure in case the customer could hear him on the phone. "Hey, Chris, yeah I'm on my way. Tell them that I will be there soon." HE ran over to his bowl and scoffed it down.

"Sure. See ya in a little bit."

Paul heard the click, indicating that Chris had hung up and sat the phone down on the counter. Out of instinct, he went to put the bowl in the sink but thought different and put it away in the dishwasher. He quickly ran upstairs to get ready for the day.

* * *

"What kinda bikes does he have in here?" A thick New York accent spoke.

Chris turned to him with a professional smile. "He has quite a few but mainly Harley's. We just finished fixing and cleaning one the other day as a matter of fact. It's a beauty. It has glossy blue paint and custom rims. The tires are brand ne…" He was going to finish his description of the bike until he heard Pauls' Harley roar into the parking lot. "Ah, here is Mr. Levesque." Chris confirmed to the customer.

Paul was quick to park his bike and make his way offer to Chris and a potential customer. He put on a bright smile and held his hand out as he walked over to the other man. "Hello, I apologize for being late this morning. I had an emergency to tend to." He lied.

Chris looked at his boss and knew right away that he was lying. His eyes look drained and he knew the truth.

"No problem, man. I was interested at looking at your bikes. I would love to have me a new one." The man stated as he watched the owner unlock the door to the shop.

"Really? Well, you won't be disappointed. I have a few beauties." Paul said proudly as he pushed open the glass door. "This one right here we just fixed up and cleaned the other day." He pointed to a bike as soon as they walked into the small building. He would love to sell a bike today because he hasn't sold one in a long while. The possible profit would definitely help his business and himself personally. Hell, lately he's had a difficult time paying for his utilities.

"Is this the one you were tellin' me about, kid?" The New Yorker asked as he looked back at Chris.

He nodded. "Yes, it is."

"Let me tell you all about it." Paul said as he ushered the man to the bike.

* * *

After successfully selling a bike tonight, Paul decided to go to the local café and treat himself to a juicy steak for dinner. He didn't know why he liked this café so much but it just felt like a comfortable atmosphere. He was actually friendly to the waitress today. Only because he had a successful work day that is. Now that he had sold a bike, he can help himself with his bills and he's been struggling with that for the past few months.

He was at the regular booth that he usually sat in and eyed the television before occasionally studying people in the café. It wasn't very busy like it usually was which he was glad.

"Here's your steak and fries, sir."

He looked up at the waitress and smiled at her. "Thank you very much." He said as he watched her set the plate down in front of him.

"You're welcome. Just let me know if you need anything else." She said politely as she placed her hands in the pockets of her apron.

"Will do."

When she left, he grabbed at the fork and knife to cut up his steak. As soon as he took the first bite, a man swung the door open and stomped in angrily.

"Where the hell are you?!" The man shouted, obviously incensed at something. His shout caused everyone to turn in their seat and look back at him as he went to the register.

Paul watched closely as the man proceeded to make his way to the back but he was stopped immediately by some waitresses and the cook. He figured it was the cook because he had the apron and hat.

"Get the hell out of my café! We told you that you're not allowed anywhere near here!" The cook yelled as he pointed towards the door.

Paul suddenly heard a female sobbing in the back and he grew curious as to what the hell was going on. He watched as the heaving man was ushered out and the doors were locked so he couldn't get back in. Since the blinds were still open, Paul watched as the man walked off down the sidewalk, looking back at the café a few times before disappearing into the night.

What the hell just happened?

"I'm sorry folks. Don't be alarmed by him so please continue eating and enjoying yourselves." The cook announced to everyone sitting in the café.

Paul heard that female still sobbing until a door in the back opened and it shut, ending the sound of the cries.

After the commotion, everything turned back to normal. Paul ate all his food on the plate and gulped down the pitcher of beer.

"Would you like anything else tonight?"

Paul belched deep in his throat before he looked up at the waitress once more. "No, I'm full." He laughed.

"Okay, I'll get your check." She replied with a smile as she gathered the plate and the glass pitcher.

* * *

After he paid the bill and tipped the wonderful waitress, he walked out of the café and into the cold night. The cold chilled him as he snapped on his helmet. Outside of the café was different because the café was always noisy in some way. Whether it was the people or the television that hung in the corner. The town was quiet as he looked around. Some of the stores and shops still had their lights on and there were barely any cars out driving. It was the perfect night for his motorcycle.

* * *

When he had arrived home, he parked his motorcycle in the garage and quickly made it into his warm home. He was going to go upstairs right away to take a shower but he wanted to call his mom first and tell her thank you like he wanted to do this morning. He just hoped that she was still awake.

He waited a few seconds before she answered. He felt relief wash over him when his father wasn't the one that actually answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, mom, it's me." He said as he leaned against the wall.

"Paul! What are you doing calling this late?" Her cheery voice sounded on the other end of the phone.

Her excited tone warmed his heart which brought a smile to his face. "Well, I just wanted to tell you thank you for cleaning my kitchen." He explained as he looked over at his kitchen.

"Oh, it's no problem, honey. It didn't really take me long at all. Just promise me one thing, that you never let it get that bad again." She scolded.

He suddenly felt bad. "I know, mom. I'm going to try."

"Ok, Paul, I'm going to go to bed now. Get yourself some sleep." Patricia said in a sleep induced voice.

He smiled once more. "I will. Goodnight, mom, I love you."

"I love you too." Then she hung up.

He hung up the phone with a lingering smile on his face. Today was actually a great day. He sold a bike, had a great dinner, and talked to his mom. He just wished that he didn't come home to a quiet house. That was a painful place to end a nice day.

He just shook his head of his thoughts before he ascended the staircase to his bedroom to shower and get some sleep.

* * *

Thanks everyone for reading! Please review and/or favorite/follow! I love to know what you guys think!


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